


Over Time

by firiel77



Category: Hockey RPS
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-03
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-10-28 19:32:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 122,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/311421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firiel77/pseuds/firiel77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set in the future. Covers a few years as their NHL careers are winding down. Sid's having a hard time deciding what he wants. Ovie knows what he wants. He just doesn’t know how to get it. And so it goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning. I’ve read a grand total of one fic in this fandom but I LOVED IT and I wanted to give writing a shot. Bare with me if I get things wrong. I’m not really familiar with the canon. I’m just hoping that if I set it far enough in the future that no one will notice I don’t know what the hell I’m talking about. Yes, I’m totally making shit up. Hope it flies.  
> 

Sometimes Sid feels like the best times are over. He’s thirty years old and feels sixty. The accumulative damage of concussion leaves him prone to headaches and his body hurts in more places than he can count. The physicality of hockey has taken its toll on Sid’s body. He’s never been the biggest guy and it all eventually all caught up with him.

He’s been thinking a lot lately, at loose ends with the hockey season finished. The Penguins have had their season cut short by the Bruins in the quarter finals. Players and coaches have dispersed around the globe for the summer. Sid flew home to see his parents but now he was back in Pittsburgh, working for the team. He hadn’t played the last two years, couldn’t really; his career cut short by head injuries. Now he works for Mario in PR.

It’s not difficult work, part time really, but then Sid doesn’t need to work at all. He’s set for life. But the job keeps him involved in hockey after a fashion and that’s good. It leaves him lots of down time to do whatever he feels like. A lot of the time he feels like golfing, running, and going fishing with the friends he’s made in Pittsburgh over the years. Sometimes he doesn’t feel like doing anything and he’ll stay in for days. That’s when his parents will fly down for a visit and watch him worriedly while he watches hockey clips for hours on end in his media room.

He’s on his way to a pub downtown to meet up with Jordan Staal for dinner. Sid grabbed a cab so he can drink as much as he wants without having to worry about a DUI. He’s looking forward to seeing Jordie, was glad when the other man called him out of the blue and arranged the meeting. He can’t remember when they last got together, probably a year. Without realizing it time has ground on and left him unaware of its’ passing.

Sid’s been missing his former team mates. He’s kept in contact with Letang and Staal, because it’s easy, they still live in Pittsburgh after all, but he doesn’t do it as often as he’d like. They’d been like a family, all of them, and swore their friendships would last forever. They hadn’t realized in their youth that coincidence and apathy could prevent them from meeting, that people got tied up with their lives, and that keeping in touch took effort. After they’d won their Stanley Cup, it seemed inconceivable that they would drift apart, no matter what the reason. Sullivan, one of the veterans, had warned them it would happen but they hadn’t believed him.

Sullivan knew what he’d been talking about. Players got traded and moved to other cities or they retired and moved back where they’d come from. Sid had watched them go, one by one, until hardly anyone from his core team remained, until even Sid was gone. After the NHL awards ceremony that year in Vegas, after the cup, it hadn’t occurred to Sid that a day would come when he would feel like he couldn’t call any of them. Least of all Ovechkin.

Somehow Sid has managed to miss Ovie all this time without ever calling him, and now he’s left it so long that he realizes, as soon as he finally decides he has to see him again, that he really should call, that he will one day, that he can’t. Or more like, he shouldn’t. He’s had his phone out more times than he can count and then put it away again.

Nothing is different. Time has passed, life events have unfolded as they do; a failed relationship, serious injuries, retirement from the game he loves. He and Ovie are still the same people, and he feels the same, even if he didn’t quite know what it was he was feeling at the time. But Sid’s not a kid anymore. He’s now six years older but obviously no wiser. They are still as far apart as ever. All the same shouldn’ts that made him shy away from the possibility of Ovie are still there.

The cab pulls up to the pub and Sid hands the driver some cash before he gets out. He finds Staal immediately sitting at a table in the corner and is surprised to see Letang is there too as well as Malkin. He smiles easily when he sees them all. Staal waves the waitress over and orders two more pitchers of beer and a glass for Sid.

They catch up on each other’s news, the wives and girl friends, the ex’s and the kids, and what their plans are for the off season. They order food and still more beer and while they talk and laugh easily with each other they swear they will keep in touch. They all agree it’s a shame they haven’t been. Sid realizes again that, despite distance and commitments, these people will always be important in his life.

Before long Malkin is feeling no pain and begins to talk about Alexander Ovechkin. Being a fellow Russian and friend he’d stayed with him at his dacha outside Moscow two weeks before. Sid watches him owlishly while Malkin tells the others about his visit with Ovie and his family. Everyone looks up at Sid when he misjudges distance and slams his mug down a bit too loudly on the table, spilling some beer.

“Have you heard from Ovie, recently?” Staal asks him after a moment, and when he says no, Jordie does bother to hide his surprise.

“Not for years,” Sid tells him.

“On the phone?” Jordie tries, clearly thinking Sid doesn’t understand.

“No,” Sid says, trying to be casual, but inwardly feeling a peculiar clenching in his gut.

“Is he still seeing that supermodel?” Letang asks, unaware of Sid’s discomfort.

The blonde one?” Sid forces himself to ask.

Malkin jumps in helpfully and shakes his head, equally unaware. “No, no, that one history. Not seeing Katrina anymore either. You know Ovie, “seeing” probably not best word to use.”

The others nod sagely. “Yeah, seeing is probably a bit too strong a word for Ovechkin,” Staal agrees, “kind of like you,” he says to Sid. Sid looks away when he feels a hot flush wash over his face.

Staal tries to be tactful, never his strongest suit and made more difficult by the beer he’s had. He asks Sid, “So how long has it been since you and Ovie, you know, have talked, or seen each other, or whatever?”

Everyone looks at him with interest and Sid is obviously not sober himself, because what comes out is “too long,” when he intended to say “a couple years.” At least he doesn’t totally embarrass himself by saying “two years and a month,” which he knows to be fact.

“Why’s that?” Letang asks, forgetting about tact.

Sid frowns and slides his mug from hand to hand. “It didn’t seem.....I don’t know. We’re still friends, I guess.”

Staal says carefully, “That surprises me. I would have thought...” he says before trailing off.

“You guys have a fight?” Letang asks.

Sid shrugs and finishes his beer before saying, “No. There’s no problem. We just lost touch.”

Letang rolls his eyes and says, “Sounds like a problem to me...” before Staal kicks him under the table and he stops abruptly. His tact has been abandoned.

Sid frowns again, or maybe he has been frowning the whole time. “ Look, there’s nothing to say,” Sid tells them irritably.

It is a problem, but most of the time Sid thinks it’s for the best. At least, he’s at a loss as to what the hell to do about it, how to fix it.

“He still the same guy,” Malkin tells them, thinking he’s changing the subject.

“Mm-hm,” Sid acknowledges noncommittally while Jordie watches his expression carefully.

Not so easily put off, Malkin pulls out his phone. “Look, I got pictures from Russia. Me and Ovie.”

He holds it out and Sid sees a photo of Ovie and Malkin grinning madly up at the camera. It’s the same crazy, gap toothed grin he remembers and his stomach clenches at the sight. Ovie’s hair is a little shorter, not as shaggy as Sid remembers, and there are fine lines in the skin framing his smile. Malkin scrolls through more pictures, showing them all to the guys.

There’s another one that captures Sid’s attention. Ovie’s looking directly into the camera, frankly, not smiling, his expression open and honest. It’s almost raw and it hurts Sid to look at it. Alexander Ovechkin too has faced some life lessons over the past few years.

“How is he doing?” Staal asks.

Malkin shrugs before answering. “So so. He still have knee problems. Working out. Hope he will play next year but maybe not.”

Letang takes the phone from him and looks at the image. “He looks sad,” he says critically, and he’s right. Sid had thought the same thing.

Malkin nods. “Well, not a lot to be happy about sometime,” he tells them before shrugging helplessly. “But he Ovie,” he concludes, as if that explains why he can smile at all.

He looks at Sid frankly. “Here Sid, I send pictures to you. You need picture of your friend Ovie.”

Sid nods weakly and then watches while the other man texts him the pictures. The waitress brings more beer and everyone refills their glass. Malkin and Letang get up and wind their way to the restroom for a piss and Staal watches Sid while he runs through the pictures of Ovechkin on his phone.

“You should call him,” he tells Sid without looking up at him, running his finger over a ring of beer on the table. “If you’re still thinking about him, you should call.”

Sid says nothing so Jordie keeps going.

“The longer you wait the worse it will get.”

Sid’s jaw tenses and he has a hard time swallowing his beer through a throat that’s gotten tight all of a sudden. He knows Jordie means well but he doesn’t like to be pushed and it’s hard to keep the anger from his voice when he replies.

“Look, just drop it Jordie,” Sid warns. He can feel one of his headaches coming on and he rubs his forehead impatiently.

Staal holds up a hand and says he’s sorry to say anything but that someone has to, and after this one last thing he’ll shut the fuck up, but “It’s really too bad you lost touch with him. It’s easy to lose something like that, and hard to get it back.”

Right then Sid realizes that Jordie, and maybe the rest of the team, knows more than he realized about his feelings for Ovechkin. He hadn’t hidden things as well has he’d thought. Despite the pretence he’s slipped up at some point. They’d never talked about it to other, never mind anyone else, but the team obviously knew something. Hell, they probably knew as much as Sid did because whatever the hell he and Ovie had, or used to have, Sid corrects himself, has always been completely undefined.

That night, once he’s changed into sweat pants, Sid flops on the couch, still slightly drunk, and pulls out his phone again. He brings up the photo and stares at it. He doesn’t remember starting, but he finds himself with his hand down his pants, stroking himself off to it. It doesn’t take long to come.

When he’s finished he wipes off his hand and goes to delete the photo, feeling slightly ashamed of himself. Before he can hit delete Sid changes his mind and keeps it after all. He tosses his phone on the table in frustration. Sid crawls into bed and despite the room spinning a little he falls asleep immediately.

Next time he gets drunk, he takes the picture out again.


	2. Chapter 2

Several years earlier.........

 

Sid takes a healthy swallow of his drink. Not because he’s thirsty or to get drunk, but because he hopes it will help blunt the bone-rattling beat of the club’s sound system. The bass is vibrating through the bones of his skull and he’s afraid maybe he’s going deaf. How could anyone hold a conversation in here, anyway? As if to illustrate the point, Geno tugs on Sid’s sleeve and yells something at him.

“What?” Sid yells back, holding a cupped hand to his ear.

Geno grins and leans forward and though he shouts directly into Sid’s ear he can barely hear him. “I say, is great! Right?”

He just nods and smiles. He hates to think he’s too old for the club scene, but in many respects he is. Sid’s the same age or younger than his team mates but he feels terribly out of place. The only reason he’s there at all is because his team mates have insisted. The players have secured a private Manhattan club to celebrate after the All Star game; invite only. Only friends and the most attractive women have been allowed in. Sid finally gave in under peer pressure. He’s there but it doesn’t mean he has to have fun. There are limits.

Staal and Letang are sitting opposite Geno in the booth they all share and they seem to be having a good time. Most of the all star team players have known each other for years and it’s a good chance to catch up. They’ve been holding court at the booth, drinking beer and bull shitting all night. Geno has been matching shots with the other Russians so he’s happily wasted already. He seems to be having the time of his fucking life. Sid is the one, as usual, at odds with everyone else.

 

He takes another drink and watches the bodies gyrating on the dance floor. One figure stands out from the rest. Alexander Ovechkin is on the floor and he’s hard to miss. He’s big, taller than most, and dances with much the same reckless abandon he displays on the ice. Sid’s never seen anyone who can so consistently enjoy himself no matter what he’s doing. He doesn’t seem to give a damn what anyone thinks. Sid wonders idly what that would feel like.

Sid’s always been acutely aware of Alexander Ovechkin. The two players broke into the NHA at the same time, both young and wildly successful, clashing repeatedly whenever their teams met. They have mutual friends and in the tight knit, insular world of professional hockey and they cross paths often at promotional appearances and social events.

Though fierce rivals on the ice they are politely indifferent towards each other off. They chat casually at events and roll their eyes at the millions of questions they had to field about each other. They really have nothing in common but hockey; they are opposites. He’s serious, hardworking, polite Canadian while Alexander Ovechkin is the hard partying, playful and brash Russian. It’s not that Sid dislikes Ovie, it’s more a sense that the two of them exist in wildly different orbits.

The wall of dancers’ part and Ovechkin bursts through, his white shirt glowing fluorescent under the black lighting. He throws himself into the booth beside Sid and crushes him against Geno. Ovie produces a full bottle of Grey Goose and pounds it down on the table with a wide grin.

“Okay,” he grins, “Time for shots!”

There are a stack of plastic glasses at the table and everyone grabs one and slides it forward to be filled. Everyone that is, except for Sid. Ovie cheerfully splashes vodka into the glasses and then frowns when he notices Sid.

“Sidney! Drink with us!” he chortles. “Was good game. Over now. Is time to celebrate!”

Geno elbows Sid good naturedly in the ribs and grabs another glass for Ovie to fill. It’s not a shot, more like a water glass and Sid’s slightly alarmed how full it is. Everyone lifts their glass to toast the game except for Ovie, who drinks directly from the bottle after he crows, “Salut!”

Sid takes a caution sip and then looks up when Geno snorts. He sees Ovie staring at him in horror. “Crosby! Is no way to drink vodka! My grandma do better job than that!” He slaps him on the shoulder to emphasize his point.

Everyone laughs and Sid sheepishly manages to choke down a mouthful without spitting it on himself. Ovie looks slightly relieved and goes back to his conversation with Geno. The second and third mouthfuls go down more smoothly, hardly burning at all. Jordie’s eyebrows go up when Sid finishes the glass and pushes it to the middle of the table. Ovechkin laughs and refills it, throwing an arm over Sid’s shoulder companionably. The vodka is making the music sound better.

“Is better, Sid,” Ovechkin chuckles. “Should have more fun. Can’t always be serious.”

Ovie looks around the room and then pushes himself up from the booth, finally giving Sid some breathing room. “Okay,” he tells them, “Time to dance. Pretty girls waiting.” And then he’s gone, disappearing onto the packed dance floor. Geno squeezes past Sid out of the booth and follows his countryman, likely hoping for one of his cast offs.

Sid drinks more and is slightly surprised when he realizes his glass is empty again. He leans back in the booth and watches the milling crowd. The women must all recognize them, they smile winningly as they pass the booth and finally Staal takes the bait. He gets up and grabs onto Sid, pulling him to his feet as well.

“Come on, Crosby” he tells him. “You have to dance at least once.”

He drags Sid within range of a group of hopeful looking women and manoeuvres them en masse onto the dance floor. Sid immediately realizes dancing is probably a mistake. He’s no dancer. Even the vodka hasn’t loosened him up enough to make it look like he likes being there. In no time the girl he’s paired with is looking bored, casting glances for more likely partners. Things only get worse when Ovie comes within range and gives a hoot, exclaiming “Sid! Get down!” at the top of his lungs.

It’s then that Sidney realizes that it’s possible for people to embarrass each other to death. He uses the momentary diversion to escape the dance floor and lurches up to the bar for another drink. He means to order a beer but when he squeezes in and sees someone with a cosmopolitan he tells the bartender, “I’ll have one of those.”

It tastes marginally better than the straight vodka. When he’s finished he orders another. The bar there that Ovechkin finds him sometime later. Sid’s got both elbows resting on it, using it to support himself when suddenly a large, hot body is draped over his back. Ovie reaches around with both arms and pins Sid against the bar. He smells like sweat and exotic after shave and the combination has a startling effect on Sid. He can feel the arousal in his groin when Ovie presses against him and rumbles his order to the bartender.

“More vodka! Two more, please. Put it on my tab.”

Ovie collects the two bottles in one hand and Sid in the other and wrangles them back to the booth. The guys take one look at him and shuffle him to the back. They can tell by Sid's glassy stare that his dancing is over for the night They go back to checking out hot women. Ovechkin stays only for a couple shots and then is up to dance again, this time with a stunning blonde.

The night grinds on and there’s nothing to do but drink more. Sid hates to dance and the women can see that a mile away. The music is too loud to actually talk to anyone, so there’s no point in even trying. Sid wonders blearily why he let the guys talk him into coming. It isn’t too much later that Sid realizes he doesn’t feel well, like he could even get sick. He crawls out of the booth over Geno, ignoring his startled gasp when Sid accidentally puts his hand down on his crotch. The stumbles to the restroom and tries to ignore the room spinning.

When he reaches the toilets he stands unsteadily in one of the stalls, trying to decide if he’d feel better if he threw up. He sits down for a minute with head in hands. He’s not sure how long he stays like that. Finally, when puking doesn’t appear imminent he gets up and splashes cold water on his face. He looks at himself in the mirror and tries to impart a sober expression before he totters back out.

When he reaches the booth it’s empty. The guys are gone. Sid peers out at the dance floor and can’t recognize anyone. Not Staal, or Letang, or Geno, not even Ovechkin seems to be out there anymore. Fuck. How long was he in the bathroom? Those assholes must have left without him. Sid’s leather jacket is hanging where he left it so he grabs it and heads downstairs. It’s hard to walk in a straight line but he thinks he might be managing it. At least he avoids falling down the stairs.

Sid hits the street in front of the club and it’s almost deserted. There’s a group getting into a limo but no one he recognizes and it quickly pulls away into the night. He steadies himself against the building to collect his thoughts. Okay, he needs to get back to his hotel. He’s pretty sure he remembers where they’re staying and when he reaches in his pocket he’s still got his card key. It shouldn’t be a problem.

Except that his thoughts are so damn hazy. The doorman notices Sid and attempts to flag down a cab and he’s about to lurch into the street when he sees someone else come out of the club. It’s Ovechkin. He’s got his coat thrown over his shoulder and his hair is sticking to his forehead, still sweaty from dancing. He looks only slightly less drunk than Sid feels but he recognizes Sid immediately and smiles.

“Sid! You go back to hotel?” he says, and then squints in concentration before saying, “Marriot, right?”

Sid nodes dumbly and Ovechkin throws his arm over his shoulder. He looks at his watch and says, “I call for limo. Should be here any minute. I give you ride.”

Sid leans against the larger man, thankful for the support, and when Ovechkin feels him sway he eyes Sid doubtfully.

“You don’t look so good, Sid,” he tells him.

Sid’s saved from responding when the limo pulls up. The doorman pulls the door open and Ovechkin guides Sid inside before climbing in beside him. It’s warm in the limo and Ovie undoes another button on his shirt and pushes up his sleeves to cool off. Sid looks around the elaborate interior and then back at Ovechkin.

Ovie shrugs dismissively. “Live it up, Sid. We’re superstars,” and then gives him a huge grin.  
Sid smiles back. Why the hell not, he thinks. He looks at Ovechkin owlishly, trying to think of something enlightening to say, and then passes out. He’s roused at some point in the journey when the driver turns sharply and the force topples Sid against Ovechkin. Ovie laughs and wraps his arm around Sid, steadying him against his bulk. Inside the cab his is intoxicating and Sid finds himself resting his face against the damp skin on Ovechkin’s neck. His body reacts before his brain can stop it and he rubs his cheek against the warm skin and ....licks.

Ovechkin doesn’t react but he doesn’t push Sid away either. Sid’s never done anything like this in his life but the vodka is making it seem like a good idea. He nestles closer and this time he presses his lips against Ovie’s neck and kisses it, sucking a little and drawing a surprised grunt from the other man.

Ovechkin glances towards the driver and then hits the button to close the glass divider between them and the front seat. He turns his body a little towards Sid and gives him an appraising look. Emboldened, Sid reaches up and presses his lips against Ovechkin’s, licking against his lower lip. After a brief hesitation he responds, opening his mouth. Their tongues slide greedily and it isn’t long before they’re short of breath. Sid has to shift uncomfortably because his pants have all of a sudden gotten too tight.

Ovie pulls away and grinsbut when Sid grabs his hand and pulls it into his lap so he can grind against it Ovie shakes his head.

“Too messy in car,” he tells Sid. “Go to hotel first.” He hesitates a moment before saying, “Sure you want....?”

Sid isn’t clear on much right now but he definitely wants. In answer he mashes his lips against Ovechkin’s in an open, needy kiss. Ovechkin makes a noise that sounds like a growl and pulls Sid more tightly against him. The rasp of stubble against Sid’s face and the other man’s strength, the way he could, can overpower Sid, is intoxicating. It stirs him in a way he’s not experienced before.

The limo pulls up at the hotel and Ovechkin gently separates the two of them. They pull themselves together and stumble into the hotel. Sid knows his lips must be red and swollen from kissing and he wipes his chin with the back of his hand as they head to the elevators. Ovechkin rests a steadying hand on Sid’s back and when he asks Sid softly what room he’s in Sid pulls out the folder he’d been given at check in.

Ovechkin frowns slightly while he struggles to read the room number but then presses the button for the floor they need. Sid leans against the back wall as they go up, concentrating on staying on his feet. When the door opens Ovechkin pulls Sid out and down the hall. He halts in front of Sid’s room and Sid stumbles into him with a giggle. He hangs off Ovechkin while he tries to swipe the card.

Ovechkin finally gets the door open and the two of them almost fall into the room. Sid spins off and hits his knees on the bed, almost going down. Ovie grabs his arm to steady him and gives him a worried look.

“Maybe this not such good idea?” he suggests, realizing just how drunk Sidney is. “I think maybe I put you to bed and go,” he suggests.

He sits Sid on the edge of the bed and helps him out of his coat and then his shirt. Sid slumps forward and rests his forehead on Ovie’s belly and he can feel his cock nudging his shoulder. Ovechkin is as hard as Sid is and that discovery emboldens him. Sid lifts up a hand and cups it over the other man’s erection and squeezes.

Ovechkin groans and then chuckles, tell him, “Sid. Never know you fool around with guys.”  
Sid hadn’t known it either but his only response is to pull Ovechkin down on top of him so that he can kiss him some more. He just knows that thrusting up and grinding into Ovechkin feels fucking amazing. He knows that what he needs right now is relief. Sid runs his hands down the other mans broad back while he ruts against him.

His enthusiasm finally seems to convince Ovechkin and he responds by rolling off Sid and quickly strips his pants and shoes off. In no time Sid is sprawled on the bed in only his boxers. As drunk as he is Sid notices Ovechkin hesitate before getting back on the bed, looking at him thoughtfully. He’s suddenly afraid he’s just going to go and briefly thinks, Christ, don’t make me beg. Instead he pushes his boxers down so he can stroke himself and grinds out, “Come on”.

Ovechkin finally takes pity on him and lies down beside Sid on the bed. They kiss again, urgent and needy. Ovechkin unzips his own jeans and slides close so he can wrap his hand around both of their cocks. The whole thing is quick and nasty and Ovechkin’s hand is dry but the sensation is still almost enough to make Sid’s eyes roll back in his head. His nails scrabble over Ovechkin’s back and it’s not long before he groans and then comes in the other man’s hand. It’s over embarrassingly fast. He’s passes out before Ovechkin even finishes.

Sid wakes up with one of the worst hangovers he can remember. The room is still dark, illuminated only faintly by the bathroom light. When he peers around the room Sid see’s he’s alone. His clothes are hanging neatly over the back of the chair. He tries to think about the night before but his memories are hazy at best. He has a flash of Ovechkin’s heady scent in the cab when they kissed and of his bulk on top of him, pressing Sid down into the bed, and a hand larger than his own stroked him off. Despite how rough he’s feeling Sid gets hard again just thinking about it.


	3. Chapter 3

At breakfast the next morning Jordie takes one look at Sid and starts to laugh. Fuck, Crosby, you look like you were rode hard and put away wet. What the hell happened to you last night?”

Sid feel like the top of his head may come off so he’s not in the mood for any grief. “What do you mean,” Sid asks him testily. “I came back from the can and you were all gone. Did you have to just leave me there?”

“We were playing foosball in the back room. Talked about it before you got up, remember?” Jordie says.

Sid doesn’t remember, of course, but he is relieved that the guys hadn’t ditched him. He knows he can be a bit of a wet blanket when they’re all out but they are generally better than that.

“Yeah, well I didn’t hear you say that,” Sid tells them and then takes a cautious sip of milk. His stomach is grumbling ominously. “I looked for you,” he finishes lamely.

Letang shakes his head. “So, where did you go? Did you end up getting laid or something? One of the poor girls feels sorry for you after seeing you on the dance floor?”

Geno leans in over his omelette. “You get lucky, Sid?” he asks, his tone conveying more a sense of disbelief.

Sid can feel a hot flush covering his face and he shakes his head. “I felt sick. So I went back to the hotel.”

“Jesus, you’re lame, Crosby,” Jordie tells him good-naturedly. Everyone returns to their breakfast, the conversation forgotten.

 

****************************************

 

Inevitably, Sid crosses paths with Ovechkin but only on the ice. The teams play twice, winning one game each. The first time they meet Sid finds himself watching the Caps players, wondering if Ovechkin has said anything, wondering if they all know what happened. No one says anything, least of all Ovechkin, and Sid turns his attention to playing hockey. Maybe his dirty little secret is safe.

Sid’s no redneck, he knows it’s no crime to be gay, but he’s just as certain that he isn’t. He’s known it from early on that being gay would be very, very bad. That it’s not something he could ever be. His parents would never accept it for one thing and neither would the hockey world. And most importantly, neither would he. It all went back to Andrew.

Andrew Beck lived next door to Sid growing up. Their mom’s were close friends and the two boys played together from an early age. Sid considered Andrew his best friend for the first ten years of his life. They eventually drifted apart because they had different interests. Sid loved hockey and Andrew wasn’t athletic at all. In middle school Andrew’s awakening interest in music and drama made him a target, someone to be teased and bullied by the jocks. In his fumbling navigation of the school pecking order Sid distanced himself from Andrew because he was a liability.

Finally in grade twelve, putting to rest all speculation and rumours, Andrew came out to his family and classmates. There were tearful conversations between Sid’s mom and Mrs. Beck about the situation. There was also a lot of parental discussion around the Crosby household, much of it not intended for the kids’ ears. All of it reinforced in Sid how bad it would be to be gay, how difficult it would be for a family, how it was something he would never want to be.

Sid still remembers something his dad had said when he hadn’t realized Sid was downstairs getting a snack in the kitchen before bed. His parents were talking about an incident where the Beck family had been out and a group of teens, probably guys Sid knew, had driven by and yelled “faggot” at Andrew before taking off.

Sid’s dad had shaken his head and said, “I’m sure glad that’s not Sidney.”

His mother had nodded in agreement and they both agreed how lucky they were to have Sidney instead. And Sid is determined to keep it that way. The only problem is, no matter how much he discounts the episode with Ovechkin as being a drunken mistake, the truth is that Sid really got off on it. He liked what Ovechkin did to him. It just doesn’t make him gay.

A couple times Sid thinks he catches Ovechkin watching him with a speculative look as if he’s worried that Sid might say something himself, that he might tell someone about the night Ovechkin jerked him off in a hotel room. There is no fear of that that, just like Sid won’t be telling anyone that sometimes now when he’s fucking a girl he thinks about someone else.

After the second time they play Geno tells Sid he’s meeting up with Ovechkin and some other Caps at a local bar and asks if he wants to come along. Jordie and Letang agree immediately but Sid says no. He’s not keen on running into Ovechkin at a club again. He’s not been out on the town since the night of what he thinks of as “the incident”. It doesn’t stop Sid from going back to the hotel and jerking off thinking about him.

It’s not until after the end of the season that they hook up again. Sid’s in Las Vegas for the annual awards banquet. Sin City. If there was ever a time or place for Sid to get fucked up on alcohol and do something he’ll regret then this would be it. There is a sense of inevitability about the weekend that leaves Sid both excited and slightly repelled by the possibilities.

Sid’s first night in Las Vegas opens true to form. He runs into Ovechkin at the opening press conference but has only enough time to shake hands and exchange some inane pleasantries. Even that short exposure leaves Sid ruffled. His mind wanders when they sit side by side during the question period to the veins in Ovechkin’s arms and how it would feel to trace them with his fingers.

Sid goes back to his room early, after a quick beer with Geno, so that he can take care of his growing problem. It’s a night like many others. Sid wraps his fingers around his erection and though he tries to empty all thoughts from his mind when he increases the pressure, as his movements quicken and his hips tilt upward it is no long his own fist making him moan and it’s not his hand he comes into.

The next day Sid sleeps late and then spends the afternoon making appearances and doing interviews. The awards ceremony goes true to form later that evening with the usual suspects picking up awards; Sid, Sudin, Geno and of course Ovechkin. Ovie is back in form. After a couple lacklustre seasons he’s had another stellar year and has captured the Hart trophy again.

Afterwards they all head to one of the bars at Caesar’s Palace. It’s part of the press junket and not optional, an opportunity for players to mingling with the press, the team owners and with assorted NHL bigwigs. It’s the kind of function Sid hates almost as much as clubbing except that Alexander Ovechkin is there with his entourage and Sid can’t stop looking at him.

Sid is decent looking. He realizes people sometimes look twice when they see him and he’s grown used to the attention. He’s one of the premier players in the NHL and so people gravitate towards him. They want to be with him, to speak to him, despite his awkward demeanour. But even Sid feels near invisible when next to Alexander Ovechkin. The man has the strongest presence Sid had ever seen. When Ovechkin enters a room everyone is immediately aware.

Sid stands at the bar with Geno and they order the special, which turns out to be a martini that comes in a glass large enough for a diving board. Sid drinks half of it and the familiar heat hits his groin. He thinks about approaching Ovechkin again, wonders if he’d ever have the guts, but then quickly discards the idea.

Ovechkin’s probably not interested anyway. He could have whoever he wants. From what Sid’s heard, he did. According to rumours Ovechkin had women in every city he travelled and after what Sid found out at the all star game he suspects he could have his assortment of men too. He certainly doesn’t need to concern himself with Sid.

When he finishes his drink Sid quickly signals the bartender to get him another. Geno gives him an odd look and then shrugs, deciding he better keep up and orders as well. A couple sports writers join them and chat for a few minutes but then drift off when they realize they’re not going to get any good quotes from either man.

They’re both on their third martini when Geno notices where Sid is looking and slaps him on the shoulder. “Stop staring, Sid,” he laughs.

Sid makes vague noises of protest and pours the last of his drink down his throat. He’s starting to think that maybe he could say something to Ovechkin, maybe if he has a few more drinks he can get back to the place he was before. He signals to the bartender for two more and it’s as if Geno can read his mind. Once the drinks arrive he slides down off his stool and grabs Sid’s arm, telling him, “Okay, so we might as well go join them.”

He leads Sid through the crowded bar towards a loud group that has gathered around Ovechkin. Geno greets his countryman warmly and gets an enthusiastic hug in return and then Ovie sees who he’s with. Instead of looking worried Ovechkin grins at Sid and slaps him on the back, almost making him spill his drink.

“Good to see you again, Sid,” he says and when Sid swallows half his martini in one go he quirks an eyebrow at him and gives him a bemused smile before he goes back to talking to a couple guys Sid doesn’t know. Some NHL guy, vice president of whatever the fuck, starts talking to Sid about media relations and the importance of a good image and he struggles to respond intelligently.

When Sid sees Ovechkin head to what he assumes is the restroom he excuses himself and follows before he can change his mind. There’s some sort of a cloak room on the way and that’s where Sid catches up to Ovechkin and grabs his arm. Ovechkin turns to see who it is and when he sees it’s Sid he looks around to see if anyone is watching and then pulls him into the alcove out of sight.

“Sid,” he says evenly and it could mean anything. His expression is unreadable.

Sid looks at him for only a second and presses himself against Ovechkin, pinning him to the wall, and then presses a searching kiss on the corner of his mouth. Ovechkin freezes for a second and then slowly, so slowly, responds to Sid’s advance. He puts his hands on Sid’s shoulders and returns the kiss.

The moment Sid touches the other man it’s all over. He can’t help but moan when his tongue is allowed to slide inside Ovechkin’s mouth and before he knows what he’s doing he’s got his hand inside his shirt and is groping at hot skin. He can feel Ovechkin shiver when he grazes his hand over the trail of hair leading downward.

Ovechkin is the first to break the kiss, pushing Sid gently away from him so they can catch their breath. Sid realizes that although he’s probably been drinking all night, Ovechkin is far more sober than he is. Sid tries to lean in again for another kiss and Ovechkin shakes his head, telling him, “This not so good place, Sid.”

He smiles gently at the look of disappointment on Sid’s face and then gives an exaggerated yawn.

“I think maybe I go to bed soon though. Been long day.”

Sid is momentarily puzzles by this until Ovechkin pulls out a sharpie and writes his room number down on Sid’s hand with a wink.

“I go say goodnight to friends and be at my room in about half hour,” he tells Sid after quickly checking his watch.

He leans down and gives Sid a quick kiss and turns to go. “Maybe, if you like, you come see me there?” he says before he disappears back into the bar.

Sid leans against the wall and stares at the number written on his hand. He’s got butterflies in his stomach and his knees feel weak but he knows he’s got no choice but to go.

Forty five minutes later he’s outside Ovechkin’s room wondering what the hell he’s doing. He knocks on the door before he can change his mind and jumps slightly when Ovechkin opens it immediately. Ovechkin changed into sweat pants and a t-shirt and he’s holding a tumbler of vodka that Sid can’t help but look at greedily. He’s suddenly not feeling nearly drunk enough to be here.

“Sid, come in,” Ovechkin tells him, holding open the door. “You want drink?”

“Yeah,” Sid tells him immediately.

Ovechkin tosses some ice in a glass and then fills it with vodka. Their hands touch during the exchange of the glass and Sid can almost hear a discharge of static electricity. His hand shakes when he brings the glass to his lips and the ice cubes tinkle. Sid almost drains it and then lets out a long breath. Ovechkin takes his hand and leads him over to the couch.

Sid sits down and rolls the tumbler between his palms, waiting for something, he’s not sure what. Ovechkin sits beside him and sips his vodka thoughtfully, watching Sid over the rim of his glass.

“Sid,” he starts, “Am I first guy?”

Sid nods and Ovechkin frowns before asking, “But not first girl?”

Sid looks at him aghast. “Of course not,” he snaps. He’s not that much of a loser for fuck sake, no matter what his team mates think.

“Okay, okay,” Ovechkin says holding up his hands. “Is just you say you not date until finish hockey,” he explains before understanding. “Ah, I get it. Just hook ups?”

“Yeah, basically,” Sid agrees.

There are girls he knows who like to hook up and who he can count on not to talk. He’ll call them up when he’s horny and they’ll arrange to meet. It’s not that often though and always very casual. Sid really does concentrate on hockey most of the time. Tonight isn’t one of those times.

“So you want hook up with me?” Ovechkin asks cheerfully. Judging by his enthusiasm Ovechkin seems pretty open to the idea.

“Yeah,” is all Sid can get out and when Ovechkin asks him, “Okay, so what you want to do?” he doesn’t have an answer.

Sid frowns slightly. The alcohol is making it hard to think, never mind speak, and he hates to admit he’s not sure. “Anything,” he ends up saying.

Ovechkin breaks into a hearty laugh and grins at him. “Yeah? Really?”

“You can’t fuck me,” Sid blurts out because, just no, that’s never going to happen.

Ovechkin waves dismissively. “Is okay, Sid. Not what I’m thinking.”

“Um, what are you thinking?” Sid asks him and then cringes when it comes out squeaky and nervous. He finishes the last of his vodka.

Ovechkin gives him an easy grin and takes another drink too. “Maybe I just show you?”

He puts down his glass and takes the empty one from Sid’s hands, placing it next to his own on the end table. They look at each other and no one moves until Ovechkin leans in and tentatively kisses Sid.

Sid doesn’t say anything, only leans in and kisses Ovechkin back. It’s what he’s been waiting for. It’s kissing, just kissing, only mouths touching, but it’s incredibly hot and when Ovechkin pushes Sid back into the couch he goes willingly. Ovechkin reaches for Sid, runs his hand over his erection affirming how turned on he is. They both groan.

Ovechkin slides to his knees between Sid’s legs and deftly undoes his belt and pants so that he can drag them down and out of the way. He takes a moment to run his cheek over Sid’s tented boxers, stokes him a couple times before looking up to see Sid’s reaction. Sid stares back at him transfixed, staring into dark eyes and the only thing he can think of to do is whisper, “Please.”

Ovechkin tugs down Sid’s boxers, freeing his cock, and presses a kiss to the tip, keeps his lips there, lest them part, the tip of his tongue resting on head of Sid’s cock before taking Sid deep into his mouth. Sid throws his head back and arches as Ovechkin starts to give him the best blow job he’s ever had. Sid realizes he’s discovered something else Ovechkin is good at, something he does with abandom.

Sid reaches down, winds his fingers through Ovechkin’s thick hair so that he can hold his head still. He has a driving urge to thrust as hard as he can. Instead he gasps out, “Fuck, fuck. Hard. Suck hard.”

Ovechkin pulls off and Sid can’t help but groan in frustration. When he looks down Ovechkin is grinning up at him. He winks at Sid and goes back to business. His cock feels like it’s half way down Ovechkin’s throat already but it’s not enough. He snaps his hips up, still holding Ovechkin’s head, and drives in hard.

Ovechkin makes a choking noise and Sid tells him, “Sorry.”

Instead of stopping Ovechkin only pushes a hand down on Sid’s hip, slightly limiting his thrusts. He lets Sid set the rhythm and Sid stares, mesmerised by the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Ovechkin’s mouth. No girl has ever let him do it like this, this hard. Ovechkin keeps deep-throating Sid like a boss until he comes.

Ovechkin stays on his knees after he swallows and after glancing up at Sid he slips his hand down his own pants, begins touching himself, looking away from Sid as he strokes off. Sid shakes off his lethargy and pushes himself upright. “Don’t,” he says, “Let me.”

Sid slides down on the floor beside Ovechkin and thrusts his hand under the waistband of the other man’s sweats. Sid curls his fingers around Ovechkin’s cock. It’s heavy and hot in his hand. Jerking another guy off feels strange, different than doing himself, and the angle is wrong but Sid is determined to make a good job of it. They kneel together, Sid jerking him off, Ovechkin open mouthed, heading rolling back, his eyes half shut.

Ovechkin opens his lids wide and Sid flinches when their eyes meet. Ovechkin sees it and closes his eyes all the way. Sid doesn’t stop except to drag the other man’s sweat pants down so he can take Ovechkin out and pump him hard until he comes. Ovechkin reaches out blindly to clutch Sid for support and, hand still on his cock, Sid pulls him in, and rests their foreheads together.

“Fuck,” Sid finally wheezes. That was hotter than he thought it would be. His hand is sticky with come and it’s splashed up on both of their shirts but Sid discovers he’s okay with it. He’s a little surprised when he realizes he’s getting hard again.

Ovechkin makes an unintelligible sound of assent and gets to his feet, pulling Sid up with him. He pulls off his soiled t-shirt and steps out of his sweats and then helps Sid get out of his clothes too. He kisses Sid deeply and then turns to the bedroom, telling Sid with a lopsided grin, “Come to bedroom, Sid. I show you something else.”

Sid follows immediately although he’s doubtful he can go again so soon. When Ovechkin pushes him down on the bed and bends over him, sucking and nipping at his nipples he thinks maybe he can. He pulls his hands up and down Ovechkin’s back, feeling the rippled muscles, as Ovechkin gently strokes, touches and strokes until Sid is hard again.

Ovechkin hands Sid a condom but when he fumbles with the wrapper, his fingers thick with alcohol and nerves, Ovechkin grins and takes it from him. He deftly opens it and in a second had it smoothed over Sid’s cock. He’s still smiling when he pours some lube into his palm and greases Sid up. He’s fucking humming when he squeezes another dollop onto his fingertips, reaching behind to lube himself.

“How you want me?” he asks Sid when he’s ready.

Without hesitation Sid says, “Hands and knees.”

Ovechkin gets into position and when Sid kneels behind him he reaches back to guide him in.

“Go slow at first, Sid,” he warns. “Is not like girls.”

“Okay,” Sid grits out. He can do this.

He looks up Ovechkin’s broad back, at the kangi figures tattooed there and then rests one hand on Ovechkin’s hip and leans in. Pushing inside that tight heat is almost enough to make him come immediately. Instead he shuts his eyes, puts his hands lightly on Ovechkin’s hips, and takes a couple deep breaths. Ovechkin is motionless too although the muscles of his back and shoulders are taut. Gradually Sid can feel him relax a little and then Ovechkin rocks back encouragingly, letting Sid’s cock slide in and out as he pushes back and then forward then back...

Sid finds his own rhythm, grip tightening on Ovechkin’s hips, pulling him back, thrusting into him, restraining himself at first but then going hard and deep as the sensation overcomes him. Ovechkin seems to surrender to it, matching Sid’s rhythm, making broken groans of sound. He drops his head and shoulders down, resting on his elbows and changing the angle of Sid’s thrusts. His groans get sharper.

Sid stops moving, his hand soothing over Ovechkin’s trembling body, up and down his spine. “Are you okay?” Sid asks. “Is it okay?”

“Yeah,” Ovechkin gasps, “Keep going. More.” He rocks back, urging Sid to start again, and even when Sid is slamming into him as hard as he can, Ovechkin is still pleading, “More, more, more.”

Sid reaches down and wraps his hand around Ovechkin’s cock, starts fisting him in rhythm with his thrusts, and he changes his prayer to something in Russian, over and over, caught between Sid’s hand and his cock.

It’s hearing Ovechkin’s cries, hearing him fucking begging for it in that deep, masculine voice, that makes Sid come first, shuddering and overwhelmed. He doesn’t stop though, doesn’t let go of Ovechkin’s cock, or stop thrusting until the other man comes as well. Sid collapses, loose-limbed, on Ovechkin’s back, still inside him.

Ovechkin sinks down onto the bed and their sweat-slickened bodies shift against each other as they come to rest. They lay there catching their breath and Sid gradually softens and then finally slips out. Sid takes off the condom and tosses it in the trash can beside the bed. It’s about the only movement he’s capable off right now. He feels like he’s run a marathon.

Ovechkin gets up and turns off the light and the bed dips as he climbs back on, shifting closer and curling around Sid. Ovechkin sighs, his head resting in the curve of Sid’s neck, and falls asleep after a few boozy breathes. All the alcohol catches up with Sid and he’s asleep in moments too.

Sid wakes up long before it’s light. Ovechkin is laying face down on the bed, naked; a sheet pulled half over him. His arm is thrown casually over Sid, pinning him down, and he’s snoring softly. Sid gently disengages himself from the other man and slides out of bed. He finds his clothes in the half light and gets dressed and then goes back to his room. He showers before crawling into bed and hopes he’ll get at least a couple hours sleep before the alarm goes off.

He doesn’t see Ovechkin the next day, doesn’t see him until the day after at the airport. Sid worries a bit about what it will be like but there’s no need. When they meet next Ovechkin gives him the same smile he usually does. Even when they happen to be alone for a couple minutes, he doesn’t say anything to Sid about it. Doesn’t attempt to touch him or give him any meaningful looks. He just grins at Sid like always.


	4. Chapter 4

Sid flies home to Halifax at the end of June like he always does. He has a house there he lives in but he’s over at his parents a lot, helping with projects around their place. His dad is determined to pass on such essential life skills as dry-walling so the two of them are finally finishing the workshop. Sid goes along but he has to shake his head; it’s not like he’s got any plans to renovate either of his houses. They’re both almost brand new. And anyway, if he ever needs too he’ll hire someone, no doubt. On the plus side, hanging dry-wall on the ceiling has given Sid a killer new workout for his shoulders. And his dad is pleased.

Sid helps his mom with her annual summer chores. Trina’s been buying berries and showing him how to make jam. It’s a skill he figures he’ll have even less use for than dry-walling. But Sid loves his mom and it’s great to catch up. Usually she spends part of the time grilling Sid on whether he’s met any nice girls. This leads to suggestions that it won’t be too long, hint, hint, hint before he’ll want to settle down. It’s a familiar theme that repeats each summer but this year Trina has been strangely quiet on the subject. This worries Sid a little. He feels like she’s saving herself for an all out assault and is just waiting for the opportune time.

Sid hangs out with old school buddies, the ones who still live in and around Halifax. They go fishing, play pick up ball in the beer league and go golfing. It’s what he likes to do every summer. Sid is, if nothing else, a creature of habit. He comes home and does all his favourite things and gets his mind off of hockey. He still runs daily and hits the gym three times a week and towards the end of the summer he’ll pick up the pace on his workouts so he’s fit for training camp. It’s a finely choreographed routine Sid’s followed every year.

Jordie and Letang come out for a week and he shows them the sights; takes them to the beach and to a couple of his favourite fishing spots. He does a few interviews with the print media that his publicist has been bugging him about. He even gets out to his grandparents cottage on Cape Breton for a long weekend with his parents. It’s a special treat. He and Taylor had gone there every summer when they were kids. It’s probably Sid’s favourite place on earth.

It’s on the drive back to Halifax afterwards, when Sid’s defences are down, that Trina mounts her assault. It’s Sunday night and the highway traffic is heavy approaching Halifax. Everyone’s sunburnt and relaxed from a couple days on the water. Sid’s driving and Trina is riding shotgun. His dad is in the back reading the latest Hockey News and keeping his mouth shut.

She opens with an easy lob, just to get the conversation rolling. “So, Sid. You haven’t told us if you’ve met any nice girls...”

“Um, yeah,” Sid tells her, “A few.”

“Oh? Really?” Trina asks him, clearing waiting for Sid to tell her more details.

Sid hasn’t got much off the top of his head, at least not anything he wants to share with mom so he’s at a bit of a loss. “Well, um, you met Christine when you were down last winter,” he ends up saying.

There’s silence in the car and when Sid glances across the look on her face makes him suspect that’s not exactly what she wants to hear. He silently kicks himself for bringing up Christine. She’s one of his more regular, and enthusiastic, hook ups, but probably not the type of girl to take home to mom. Sid’s bright idea to take her out for dinner with his parents had probably not been one of his best. It had been a hell of a long night.

“Anyone else?” Trina asks him, confirming his suspicions.

Sid keeps his mouth shut this time and concentrates on the road. When Trina sees that he’s not biting she waits only a couple minutes before commencing round two.

“Jen McLeod is home for the summer.”

And there it is her ace in the hole. Sid gives a non committal kind of sound and turns on the radio. He can hear his father snort softly in the back.

Undeterred, Trina continues. “I ran into her with her parents at the grocery store. She was asking about you.”

“Hummmm.”

“You remember Jen, don’t you Sid? They live over on Maple?” she presses, waiting for an answer this time.

“Yeah, mom. I remember her.” Jen was a year ahead of him in high school and on the honour roll. They hadn’t had a lot in common at the time.

“She’s in law school, doing really well. She’s a really nice girl. Pretty too.”

“Ummhmmm?” Sid murmurs, trying to look as uninterested as possible. Sid’s not had a lot of experience with really nice girls, Christine being a case in point. They tended not to be interested in the casual arrangements he favoured.

“Anyway, I thought it would be nice if you two got together and maybe got to know each other again.”

When Sid doesn’t comment there’s a long pause and Sid can’t believe she’s given up so easily. But then she continues.

“I’ve invited the McLeod’s over for dinner on Tuesday and Jen is coming along,” she tells Sid briskly. When he tries to object she holds up her hand to stop him. The next line is delivered in a tone that warns it’s not optional. “I told them you’d be there too, Sid.”

Sid finally looks across at his mom because seriously? “You’re setting me up?” he asks her exasperated. “Seriously? What if I have a girlfriend in Pittsburgh?”

“Do you?” his mom asks immediately.

“Well, no, not really,” he’s forced to admit and his mother smiles again. She knows she’s got him.

Sid looks in the rear view mirror and although his Dad’s eyes had been following the conversation they immediately return to his magazine when Sid tries to get his attention. Sid signs; so much for any support from that quarter he thinks.

His mom smiles easily now that she senses her advantage but she still looks firm. “Bob and Anne want to see you too, so I hope you can make it.”

Outflanked, Sid gives in somewhat graciously, unable to think up a convincing reason why he can’t go. Trina has left nothing to chance. It’s a night she damn well knows he doesn’t normally have anything on. He figures he’ll have dinner with the McLeod’s and maybe take Jen out once or twice to appease his mom. With any luck she’ll shelve her hunt for potential wives over the rest of the summer and give Sid some peace.

They end up having a nice night with Bev and John McLeod and of course, Jen. The next week Sid takes her out for dinner at the nicest place in town. She’s sweet and smart and personable and they have a good time so Sid asks her out again. Sid’s mom is thrilled. She congratulates herself for the rest of the month on being such a good matchmaker. Sid can just tell she’s hoping this is the one.

Sid and Jen see each other regularly and towards the end of his stay when she smiles and suggests it would be fun to go away for the weekend Sid decides why not. He books them in for the romance package at a quaint inn he’s heard about. Jen is suitably impressed and when he springs for champagne and flowers she’s swept off her feet by his gesture. They end up having sex all weekend. It’s familiar and fun if not outstanding, at least for Sid.

He’s always been decent at sex, he knows how it works, what girls like to get off, and he can do that, has done it, and not had any complaints. Only one thing troubles Sid while he’s fucking Jen. Unsought after images keep intruding on his consciousness; brief flashes of stronger hands on him, fierce kisses, a harder body beneath him. But Sid shakes it off and concentrates on getting the job done. It’s common; he’s read, to sometimes fantasize about the same sex, pretty normal. It doesn’t make him gay. Not at all. Sid’s always fucked girls.

They go home after the weekend and Sid fucks her once more to prove a point to himself.  
But he can’t help thinking that Jen is a lot more of into him than he’s into her so when she hints at flying down to Pittsburgh for a visit during camp Sid is polite but vague. It doesn’t take her long to catch his drift and they don’t part on good terms. Sid’s mom tells him over dinner that Jen’s gone back to Montreal early and although she doesn’t say anything more he can tell she’s heard things from the McLeod’s. He can feel the waves of disapproval coming off her like burning.

It stings. Sid’s spent the summer being the perfect son, always doing the right thing and he doesn’t like to be found wanting. He knows the way he’s treated Jen has left him a little tarnished. Just like that Sid’s back in junior high bringing home a bad report card. He always hated the way his parents didn’t get angry at him. They just got disappointed and it was a hell of a lot worse. He’s a bit relieved when it’s time to go back to Pittsburgh.

***********************************

Sid flies back to Pittsburgh for training camp and immerses himself in hockey. It is, after all, his life, and what he’s best at. He’s determined to improve the Penguins record from the year before and focuses on that. The team had had a decent year but they’d been unceremoniously knocked out of the playoffs in the first round by the Islanders, a team with a much poorer record. That still stung, even after the summer.

There have been some personnel changes on the team due to injuries. Orpik is still out with a blown knee during the final game of the season. Pascal was back on light duty but still favouring the wrist he’d had to have surgery on over the summer. Even Geno had managed to bugger up his back in Russia over the summer although Sid suspected the injury had little to do with hockey or dry land training. He was keeping quiet about the cause in any case.

The Penguins first round draft pick is a winger from Sweden who’s apparently some sort of scoring sensation over there. Everyone is expecting great things from the kid. There are a couple new guys the Penguins got in a late season trade that sent Matt Cooke to the Kings. They also have two rookie defence men brought up from the minors that look like they’re fifteen. Sid can see after the first couple days that the group has potential but there’s still a hell of a lot of work to be done to get them all functioning as a team.

There’s the other stuff too, the many obligations that come with being a super star. He’s got interviews to do, appearances to keep the corporate sponsors happy, meetings with Mario and other Penguins management, not to mention catching up with his Pittsburgh friends and getting his house habitable after a summer away. Sid’s a bit surprised when he realizes he hasn’t thought of Alexander Ovechkin in a month.

However, that doesn’t last forever. They meet the Caps for the first time in mid October. Ovechkin is cordial when they meet at center ice before the game but just that, just the same gap toothed smile and laughing eyes as usual. He even gives Sid a couple solid checks that piss off some of the other Penguins. They don’t really both Sid too much though and he just shakes them off. For a player like Ovechkin they’re more akin to love taps.

The teams play to a 3 – 3 tie. It’s early in the season and neither team is playing great. They haven’t met since last April so no one has any grudges going and no one’s out for blood. Despite the lack of feeling the game degenerates into a bit of a shit show. There are a lot of errant passes and miss queues at center ice. Ovechkin scores a nice one but then misses an open net and berates himself in Russian while looking heavenward and shaking his head.

Both teams take some bad penalties they’ll be hearing about from the coaches, just cheap stuff like hooking and tripping. They result in power play goals by Geno and Green. Sid’s new left winger, Lindstrom, has a good game at least. He ties the game and then puts them ahead on the power play with only a couple minutes remaining. Unfortunately the Penguins can’t hold on and Ovechkin gets another one on a sloppy turnover, redeeming himself for his earlier miss.

The Penguins fly out immediately after the game for a four game road trip west and although Sid and Alex nod acknowledgement at each other before they leave the ice they don’t speak at all. For Sid even that brief contact is enough to make him wake up hard the next morning after a decidedly masculine erotic dream.

 

*****************************

 

They meet up again a couple weeks later while filming a commercial in Montreal for the NHL. Sid’s happened to hear that Ovechkin would be there from his agent and he’s slightly edgy with anticipation. Geno’s been asked to go too so he and Sid fly up together the morning of the shoot. Geno grumbles about having to go at all and wasting two of his three days off but Sid can’t wait, anyway, he figures it’s all part of promoting the sport. Anyway, it’s good to think about something else besides how poorly the team is playing. The recent road trip had been brutal with them losing every game.

When they get to the filming location downtown outside the historic Montreal Forum Sid immediately looks around for Ovechkin. He hears someone shouting at Geno in Russian and when he turns he sees Ovechkin waving at them from where he’s standing with the director and camera man by the trailer everyone is changing in. He’s got his parents with him. Sid recognizes the older couple from sports interviews he’s seen with Ovechkin.

Sid and Geno wave but everyone is busy getting ready for the shoot because it’s fucking freezing out even though the weather is clear. When the wind blows it makes Sid’s eyes water and the hair in his nose freezes when he breathes in. It’s so cold it hurts. Sid and Geno huddle beside a space heater in the hockey gear they’ve been given to change into while a woman in a down jacket applies their makeup. Ovechkin wanders over and watches them a minute and rolls his eyes.

The Sedin’s are there along with Luongo, all looking equally miserable in their Canuck jerseys. Sid sees Toews and Kessel and nods curtly and hears Geno mutters darkly, something about why the hell Pavel Datsyuk isn’t there having to go through this exercise with them. Sid tries to wipe his nose discretely on his sleeve and wonders about that too. The guy must have thought up an excuse, lucky bastard. The shoot seems to take forever and Sid breathes a sigh of relief when they are finally released for the day.

He and Geno are staying at a hotel a couple blocks away and flying home in the morning. Sid hopes like hell the place has a hot tub because he can’t feel his feet anymore. When Sid finishes changing into his street clothes he sees Geno and Ovechkin chatting. He pulls up until he sees Geno waving him over.

“Hey, Sid,” Geno tells him. “Ovie’s wondering if we want to go for dinner with him and his parents.”

The idea takes Sid by surprise so he says, “Um, yeah, I guess so. Sure,” before he can think of a convincing reason not to.

He hovers behind Geno while the two discuss arrangements in Russian, presumably where they’ll be eating because Sid manages to make out words like steak house and sushi. Sid can’t believe the two of them would consider eating cold fish for dinner when it’s fucking thirty below but he keeps his mouth shut. Whatever they are talking about seems to take forever so he hops up and down to keep warm. The elder Ovechkin’s are waiting at the door of their cab watching the exchange dourly and Sid hopes he doesn’t regret agreeing to go along. They don’t seem happy at all. Or maybe they’re just as cold as everyone else.

Finally Geno and Ovechkin finish talking and Ovechkin gets in the cab with his parents and takes off, presumably to their hotel. Sid and Geno beat feet for the Four Seasons two blocks away, walking as fast as they can to warm up. Sid goes to the gym for his usual workout, stopping at the hot tub on the way, while Geno opts instead for a nap. Afterwards they shower and dress for dinner. Geno breaks open the habitual bottle of vodka and they have a few good shots before they go down to catch a cab.

Sid fidgets nervously on the way to the restaurant. He’s getting more and more nervous about the night as time passes and he’s hoping he isn’t going to get into a full on anxiety attack over it. The vodka has given him a bit of a warm glow but it’s apparently not enough. He’s not at all sure what to expect tonight. It’s not a situation he’s anticipated being in.

Finally he turns to Geno and grumps. “I hope you all aren’t going to sit there and talk in Russian all night so that I feel like a tool.”

“What you mean tool?” Geno asks him blankly.

Sid frowns. He sometimes forgets Geno’s still learning English. He tries to explain more clearly. “I don’t want to sit there like I don’t belong, like no one wants me there” he tries to explain, realizing that’s probably how he will feel no matter what.

“No, no, don’t worry,” Geno assures him. “Ovie’s parents want to meet famous Sidney Crosby real bad.”

Sid finds that a little hard to believe. “They didn’t look very excited about it while you two were talking earlier,” Sid tells him. It looked more like they were giving him the evil eye than anything.

Geno just shrugs dismissively and tells him, “Are Russian,” as if that fact explains all.

They ride in silence a few more minutes before Sid asks him, “So what kind of restaurant are we going to? I heard Ovechkin mention sushi,” he adds, trying not to sound bitchy.

“No, no, we agree steak house,” Geno assures him. “I know you don’t do sushi, Sid. Don’t worry. Anyway, Mikhail don’t like either. Or Tatyana. And Ovie hear this place really good.”

Sid breathes a sigh of relief. At least he and Ovechkin’s parents seem to have one thing in common. He thinks a minute and eyes Geno a little suspiciously before asking, “So what else were you talking about? I thought you’d never get finished.”

Instead of answering Geno just shakes his head and starts to laugh. He looks slightly embarrassed which gets Sid’s alarm bells going.

Sid turns to him and asks sourly, “What?”

“Ovie just ask me favour. Ask me not to let you drink too much and make big fool of self in front of parents.”

Sid is offended. What the actual fuck does Ovechkin think he’s going to do? Try to make out with him in front of them? But then thinking back over there past meetings Sid realizes that quite possibly that’s exactly what Ovechkin is afraid of, either that or Sid just collapsing face first in his dinner in a drunken stupor. His behaviour hasn’t been the most commendable when alcohol’s involved.

Instead of chirping anything back Sid just sighs. There’s not a lot to say in his defence. “Well, just don’t make me drink any more vodka, for fuck sake. I probably shouldn’t have had any at the hotel,” he adds peevishly.

“Is okay, Sid. Is winter. Need some vodka to keep warm. Look at weather.”

He points outside the steamy window with his chin and Sid can see that it’s started to snow; big serious flakes that promise to pile up in a short time. He watches the flakes falling, illuminated in the headlights of the cab, blowing lightly in the wind. Great, they’ll be lucky if they don’t get stuck out all night he thinks gloomily as he stares outside.

Finally Geno slaps him on the arm. “Don’t look so sad, Sid. Not going to concentration camp. No interrogation by KGB. Is only dinner. Be fine.”

Sid is saved from any more fits of nerves when the cab pulls up at their destination. When they get out he sees that they’re in the old town. The narrow streets covered in snow and the brick buildings make it look like they are stepping out into an early Christmas card. Ovechkin is standing outside the restaurant door waiting for them and once Sid thrusts some money at the driver they make for the door.

Ovechkin gives them a big grin and holds it open. “What took you guys? Thought you got lost? Come inside.”

He ushers them into the restaurant, brushing the show off his shoulders before following them in. It’s warm and cozy inside, a small place, rustic and dimly lit, but Sid can see that most of the tables are occupied even on such a snowy night. There is a cloak room off the entry hall and they all duck inside to take off their winter coats before going any further.

“Parents already at table. We have booth at back,” Ovechkin tells them both, pointing in the direction they need to go. “Geno, why don’t you find them. I’ll be right there.”

Sid turns to follow Geno but Ovechkin puts his hand on his arm to stop him. When Sid turns back Ovechkin grins at him and pulls him further back into the cloak room so they are out of sight and pushes him in against the coats. Sid looks up at him and he’s got snow in his hair and there’s more melting in his long dark lashes and running down from his eyebrows. Ovechkin’s nose and cheeks are red from the cold but his body is radiating heat.

He’s still grinning at Sid, his eyes twinkling mischievously, but he seems slightly hesitant, as if he’s not quite sure where he stands. Sid’s body knows immediately where it stands so he leans in and presses his lips to Ovechkin’s mouth in a determined kiss. The other man’s lips are cold but once Sid’s tongue slips inside his mouth it’s met with a wet heat that makes him moan. Ovechkin immediately returns the kiss, pressing against Sid even harder. Sid wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Ovechkin, clutching and grasping at him.

They kiss for a long time, until a gentle ring lets them know that the entry door is being opened again and they separate breathlessly and reluctantly pull apart before anyone sees them. Ovechkin huffs in amusement and then runs his hands through his hair, unsuccessfully trying to put it in some sort of order. Sid straightens out his clothes and wipes his mouth. He has to shut his eyes for a moment. Their make out session has left him feeling lightheaded and weak.

“Is good to see you, Sid,” Ovechkin murmurs before giving him one more quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. “Come, we join others.”

“Yeah,” he agrees slightly breathlessly.

Sid’s face is flushed and his lips feel swollen from kissing and he’s mortified that everyone will take one look at him and know immediately what they’ve been doing but he follows Ovechkin uneasily to the booth.

He’s relieved to see it is as darkly lit as the rest of the place and that he will be sitting on the opposite side of the table from Ovechkin. He’s seated between Geno and Ovechkin’s father, Mikhail and across from his mom. Introductions are made and Sid is greeted politely, if not warmly, by Mikhail and Tatyana Ovechkin. With the formalities dealt with everyone turns to their menus.

This prove be a bit of a challenge as Ovechkin ends up having to translate each item, sometimes after consultation with Geno, to his parents so that they can consider the choices. He does this with complete patience and good grace, answering any number of questions they throw at him. Buffalo wings proves to be too much for all the Russians and Sid has to step in to help out. The elder Ovechkin’s both look at him suspiciously as if he’s making some sort of joke at their expense.

Ovechkin surprises Sid again by having a knowledgeable discussion with the wine steward and then ordering three bottles of a very good red to go along with the meal. Once the wine arrives and has been tasted and approved and the glasses filled Tatyana turns to Sid and gives him an appraising look.

“So, Sidney,” she demands. “Team winning Stanley Cup again this year?”

Sid is slightly taken aback by her forthright manner and fumbles a little with his answer. “Um, I um, probably not,” he admits. “The team’s in a bit of a transition. We’re in sort of a rebuilding year,” he explains lamely. It sounds better than saying that the team is currently sucking ass.

Tatyana smiles for the first time all night. “Good. Is Sasha’s turn to win,” she pronounces, patting her grinning son on the hand.

Mikhail only nods sagely and Sid thinks that he probably does a lot of this to keep the peace in the family. It hasn’t taken Sid long to realize where Alexander Ovechkin gets his fierce determination from.

Geno has obviously known Ovechkin’s parents for a long time. He chats with them easily in Russian despite his promise to speak English. Fortunately Ovechkin makes sure to bring the conversations back to English for Sid’s sake and translate what he has to for his parents. It’s a little awkward but Ovechkin is making the effort so Sid does too. They take about the league and their latest games until the food begins to arrive.

When it does Tatyana takes one look at Sid’s plate with his chicken breast, plain baked potato and steamed vegetables and shakes her head in horror. She says something in Russian that makes Geno dissolve in giggles.

“No wonder you play bad,” she scolds. “Should eat more.”

She points towards her son’s plate which Sid can see is piled high with what looks like half of a cow as well as a fully loaded baked potato. Sid looks at Geno and sees that he has ordered much the same thing. Mikhail’s steak is not quite as large as the other but his is smothered in cream. Sid fervidly hopes they all have room to move on their cholesterol.

Despite Tatyana’s words Sid can’t help but laugh when he tells her, “Hey, it’s not just me that’s playing bad! It’s the whole team! Anyway, I eat enough.”

Ovechkin snorts in amusement and Sid considers kicking him under the table. Geno only nods glumly and tucks into his own enormous steak, not even attempting to defend Sid despite the sour look thrown his way. Tatyana is not convinced at all. She takes one more look at Sid’s plate and then carves off an ample chunk of her own steak and unceremoniously plops it on Sid’s plate alongside his more modest portion.

“You need red meat,” she tells him firmly, accepting no argument.

Sid is immediately afraid that she’s going to reach across the table and begin cutting it for him so he decides he better get started himself. Tatyana watches him carefully while he chews and swallows the first piece before starting to eat her own meal. Mikhail nods at him benevolently as if to let Sid know he’s made the correct decision. Sid realizes the steak is really good.

His ability to do what he’s told seems to have endeared Sid to Tatyana and she starts to warm up to him. It’s certainly broken the ice. While they eat, she inquires about his parents and family and what it was like growing up in Canada before turning back to chat with Geno and her son. The wine flows easily and Sid finds he’s getting a bit of a buzz on while he eats his dinner. He’s definitely more relaxed than he thought possible and so far is in no danger of passing out. Things are looking up.

While the others revert to Russian Mikhail attempts to keep up a conversation with Sid about hockey. His English is hesitant and very limited but between the two of them they make themselves understood. Sid finds they share many of the same views on the game they both clearly love. They talk about their favourite players over the years and where they think the game is heading. The elder Ovechkin is eminently knowledgeable on the subject and has a sly sense of humour. Sid decides he likes Mikhail. He reminds him a lot of his own father.

Despite how full he is Sid makes sure to clean his plate under the watchful eye of Tatyana. It makes him feel like he’s six years old again but at least Geno and Ovechkin get the same treatment this time. Sid’s relieved when it’s only Ovechkin who has to tolerate Tatyana reaching up and dabbing food off his chin when he’s finished eating. He submits to it good naturedly in spite of Geno’s teasing. Sid isn’t sure he can handle a spit wipe right now.

When the plates have been cleared away Sid is surprised at how late it is and also how much he’s managed to enjoy himself. Ovechkin waves off all attempts by Geno and Sid to pay their share telling them, “No, I invite you all. Put away your money, you guys.”

Geno gives up immediately but Sid is more insistent until he is levelled by a firm look by Tatyana. He puts his wallet back sheepishly. Once Ovechkin has taken care of the bill he turns to Geno and tells him, “Wait here with my parents while I get some cabs. They might take while with the snow.”

He gets up and turns to Sid, “Come with me, Sid? Okay?” he asks him casually, not waiting to hear what he says.

There is no need. Sid is up and following him across the room immediately. Ovechkin speaks to the maitre d’ a moment about the cabs and then they put their coats on and go outside. If anything it’s snowing even harder and there’s at least six inches of snow on the ground. Ovechkin looks around and when he sees that the street is completely deserted he leans Sid against the brick wall of the building. He’s the one to initiate the kiss this time but Sid opens his mouth to it immediately, willingly, and returns it just as enthusiastically.

There is a bit of a miss queue and their teeth crash against each other hard but they soon find their rhyme. It’s too cold to open their coats and slide their hands inside so Sid has to content himself with clutching at Ovechkin and pulling him close, grinding himself against his bulk. Finally he has to pull away to catch his breath.

He leans his head back against the building, none to gently, and hisses, “Fuck.”

Ovechkin grins at him and kisses him again, winding his hands around Sid’s neck, and pulling him in tighter. Sid can’t get enough of it. When they part the next time he whispers, “Come back to my hotel.”

Ovechkin sighs and shakes his head, pressing their foreheads together. “Can’t this time, Sid. Have parents with me. Leave early in morning. You know,” he tells him with real disappointment in his voice. “But next time, for sure.”

“Oh, okay,” Sid nods. He’s more disappointed than he wants to admit. He’s not sure what else to say but settles for, “your parents are nice. It was nice to meet them.”

Ovechkin smiles softly; he clearly thinks a lot of them. Then he shrugs and tells him, “They are parents. Glad you like.”

He doesn’t have time to say any more because one of the cabs pulls into that street right at that moment followed by a second. Ovechkin gives Sid one more quick kiss before he goes inside to get the others. Sid waits in the snow catching his breath. The little contact that they’ve managed to have tonight has left him achingly hard.

Everyone else comes out of the restaurant bundled up in their winter coats. They say their final good-byes and Sid watches while Tatyana kisses Geno on both cheeks. To his surprise, instead of shaking Sid’s proffered hand like Mikhail has, she kisses him soundly as well before enveloping him in a big hug. They climb into their respective cabs and before Sid knows it Ovechkin is gone. He’s not sure when they are playing the Caps again but when he gets back to the hotel he’s sure as hell going to find out.


	5. Chapter 5

When Sid realizes they’re not playing the Caps for four weeks he curses the NHL scheduling gods and his mood deteriorates. The whole team notices the change but they’ve got no idea why. They incorrectly assume it’s the protracted losing streak that’s gotten to Sid and not his inability to get laid. Things get so bad that Flower finally threatens to sit with someone else on the plane and finally scares Sid into making an effort to be civil.

They finally win one at home against the Sharks but it’s because San Jose plays even worse than they do. There’s nothing pretty about the win but hey, it’s two points. It gives them something positive to build on during a season with little else to recommend it.

For the first time in his life Sid looks for gay porn on the internet, purely for research purposes, he tells himself. He hooks up with Christine a couple times and it helps to relieve a little tension. But then she’s off to the Caribbean with some girlfriends for a vacation and he’s left to watching the sports highlights at night and then beating himself off.

The Caps are in the news a lot. After being somewhat shaky the first couple weeks the Caps have hit their stride. Sid’s beginning to suspect that Tatyana is right about the Stanley Cup. Where the Penguins have been losing more than they win the Washington Capitals record has been the reverse. Last season was solid with them making it to the semi-finals before being defeated by the Flyers. This year promises to be better. If they can avoid injuries to key personnel they have a good shot at winning the whole thing.

Mike Green is healthy for the first time in years. Alex Semin is back from knee surgery and playing better than ever and Backstrom is as steady as ever. The Caps first round draft pick, a kid from Denmark of all places, though young and green, is blindingly fast and has one of the hardest shots in the league. To top it off both Caps goalies have been steady. It looks like the team may have solved the problems in goal that have dogged them.

It’s probably a good thing the Penguins are playing them soon. It probably wouldn’t be much of a game. Sid and Pasqual are in their hotel room watching the Caps trounce the Devils at home and Sid knows exactly how New Jersey must feel. They’ve just suffered a depressing 7 -1 lose to the Canucks. Sid’s been shut out for the last four games and he’s not at all happy about it. But he is being careful not to take it out on Dupuis or he’ll be out of a roommate.

They fly back to Pittsburgh the next morning and thankfully get the rest of the day off. Bylsma wants them in for a practise the following day and no one is looking forward to it. Sid’s never seen the coach as mad as he was after the debacle in Vancouver. And the worst part is that most of the players don’t seem to care what he thinks. They’ve all heard the rumbling. Sid’s been on enough teams to know that Dan’s on his way out. It’s not Bylsma’s fault they’re so bad. He’s coaching the same way he always has. It’s just not working anymore. Everyone can see it’s time for a change. It’s just a matter of when.

Bylsma works the team hard at the practise. Sid’s in the dressing room cooling off when a couple of the team PR people track him down. They’ve got Geno in tow. Apparently the two of them have been invited to New York for an awards banquet honouring the greatest athlete’s of the last fifty years. Normally Sid would groan but the first thing he thinks is maybe Ovechkin is going? He accepts on the spot. Geno’s blown away that he’s even been asked so he agrees too. The banquet is the next weekend and fortunately falls during a three day break so it’s all a go with the Penguins management. The team could use some good PR right now.

Sid casually asks Geno if Ovechkin is going to be there and the Russian is on his phone immediately. He gets a confirmation text within the hour, not from Ovechkin himself but from Datsyuk. It never ceases to amaze Sid how a group of people can be so up on each other’s business. The Russian players in the NHL are like a group of gossipy old woman. At any rate the thought of possibly hooking up with Ovechkin again puts Sid in a better frame of mind. It’s at the Waldorf Astoria so he decides he better get his tux cleaned.

 

***************************

 

Sid and Geno fly into New York late the afternoon of the banquet. It’s a tight schedule and the cab ride into Manhattan is slowed by heavy traffic through the tunnel so they barely have time to find their rooms and change before it’s time to go. Geno comes over with his vodka and pours them both a glass so they can toast their night in the big apple. They’re just about to leave Sid’s room when his mom phones so he sends Geno on his way, promising to be down in a couple minutes.

Trina has a lot to say so the call takes a lot longer than Sid wants it to. He struggles to tie his tie while he listens to his mother tell him about his grandmother’s latest health issues. He wonders idly if Taylor is blessed with this much information about his grandmothers blood pressure or if he’s just lucky because he’s the older sibling. When he finally gets his mom off the phone he’s definitely running late. He stops to check his hair in the mirror and then bolts for the elevator.

Sid’s still straightening his cuffs while he walks briskly to the ballroom, looking for familiar faces. He sees Ovechkin heading his way. He’s grinning madly as he approaches and Sid can’t help but smile back. Ovechkin’s in a tux but his hair is sticking out in a shaggy wonder and when he pulls Sid into a hug his breath smells like vodka. He’s definitely started celebrating already.

It’s a hug, but also more, with Ovechkin wrapping around Sid and his body awakening to the memory, tingling and rousing. Patting Ovechkin’s back would have been more appropriate, but for a time they stand absolutely motionless. Sid closes his eyes, his cheek pressed against Ovechkin’s chest, the rest of the room forgotten. Sid is next aware of is Ovechkin’s head moving, sort of nuzzling a little, and a soft laugh, which he can feel as the other man’s breath on the bare skin of his neck, making him shiver.

Then Ovechkin lifts his face away and bestows the ghost of a kiss on Sid’s cheek. His eyes are twinkling in good humour and he grins down at Sid. Sid hopes like hell no one notices the kiss or just assumes it’s some kind of a quaint Russian custom. They step apart reluctantly and Sid smiles shakily at Ovechkin while he composes himself and then they are surrounded by well-wishers. They both know it’s not the time or place and so pull apart.

They go their separate ways to shake hands with others, to chat with the press, and to mingle. Sid finds Geno at a table where they’ve been seated with Wayne Gretsky, and to Sid’s surprise, Mario Lemieux. He hadn’t expected his boss to be here. On one hand he’s always happy to see his friend and mentor but on the other he’s not really keen on talking about the team’s performance with the owner. Luckily Mario is happy to stay away from serious subjects and they chat with the others around their table.

Ovechkin is sitting across the room with another group of NHLer’s so Sid doesn’t get to talk to him until after the speeches are done, dinner has been eaten and the awards have been handed out. After that are an interminable number of photo requests by the press in every possible combination of athletes. Sid and Geno end up with Ovechkin when they are asked to pose together for some pictures as the only three currently active players in the league.

Finally, after that, they are allowed to do as they like and the hockey players all gravitate to one table in the corner of the room. Ovechkin is sitting with Mark Messier and Sergei Fedorov doing vodka shots but he grins and waves Sid and Geno over as soon as he sees them. They grab a couple chairs and drinks are poured. Sid has a couple shots so he doesn’t look like too much of a pussy but then he takes a break. He’d hate for Mario to have to drag him up to his room.

Ovechkin seems to be having the time of his life. He’s meeting players he grew up idolizing and Sid doesn’t have the heart to interrupt. He’s encouraged when he catches Ovechkin watching him and gets another big grin in return. Ovechkin looks around the table at everyone sitting there and then shrugs as if to say, what can you do?

Instead of hanging around any longer Sid writes his room number on a coaster and slips it in Ovechkin’s pocket when he says goodnight to him. Ovechkin pats him on the back and smiles when he sees what Sid’s done so he’s pretty sure Ovechkin will be up to his room before too long.

Sid finds Geno and Mario and tells them he’s turning in. Geno is scandalized that Sid’s quitting so early. He looks like he’s settling in for a long night with Fedorov, but Sid gets an approving nod from Mario. He heads for his room feeling very much like the golden boy on the team and hopes Geno manages to put on a brave face in the morning when they have to leave early.

Sid paces around his room, tumbler of vodka in hand, while he waits for Ovechkin to arrive. He turns on the sports but he’s so taut with anticipation that he can’t sit still. When Ovechkin knocks he opens the door and practically drags him into the room.

Sid looks him over. Ovechkin is wild-eyed and his face is flushed. He’s breathing hard and he looks like he’s sprinted the whole way. He’s got his jacket and shoes off in seconds but when he sees the glass in Sid’s hand he pulls his hands through his hair, takes a deep breath and tells him, “Finish drink first if you want.”

Sid’s had enough to drink already so instead of saying anything he grabs Ovechkin by the shirt and pulls him in for a kiss, shoving him against the door and making him grunt in surprise. Then Ovechkin is laughing and kissing Sid back while trying to get him out of his clothes at the same time.

He’s in a frightening hurry to get him undressed and a couple buttons fly off when they can’t be undone fast enough. Sid is equally fumbling in his rush to take off Ovechkin’s clothes and it takes both of them to get his pants undone and off. Finally they are naked and Ovechkin pulls Sid in tight so their bodies are pressed together and the friction when Sid rubs his cock against Ovechkin’s almost makes him come.

Ovechkin can sense how close Sid is and he gently separates their bodies so the contact is no longer as intense. He leans down and nuzzles against Sid’s neck rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Sid’s back and then sighs. Finally he leans forward until his mouth is just over Sid’s and says, “Yeah,” just before their lips press together.

Ovechkin slows it down, takes his time with his kisses, gentle, tiny sips with pauses between each one. Then Sid can’t stand it anymore and he slips his tongue in to explore the contours of Ovechkin’s mouth, and the kiss spirals deep and wild and out of control.

Insatiable, Sid can’t get enough of Ovechkin, can’t believe the feel of him, can’t believe that it’s even better than he remembers. He can’t believe how the rasp of Ovechkin’s beard turns him on, how the weight pressing against, forcing him against the wall stirs him like no woman has. He runs a hand over the curve of the other mans ribs and his ass and is mesmerised by the sheer size of him.

Ovechkin gently nips his earlobe, and soothes it with a kiss that becomes the first in a line trailing down Sid’s neck and across his chest to his nipple. Sid arches against that hot, teasing mouth, choking on words and instead just gasps. Ovechkin smiles against his skin, and Sid shudders and seizes his head, holding it against him.

Sid needs more. He pushes against Ovechkin, kissing and pushing him until they reach the bed. When Ovechkin’s knees hit the mattress he falls over backwards and Sid climbs on top of him. He straddles Ovechkin’s thighs and they stay like that, stomach to stomach, with him leaning over Ovechkin for long moments while his thumbs trace arcs over the network of old scars on the other man’s face, again amazed that he can be so turned on by a man.

Ovechkin seems slightly bemused by Sid’s assertiveness but gamely lets himself be manhandled. Sid can feel the nudge of Ovechkin’s cock against his belly and he shifts so that the friction is more direct. Sid’s had a few drinks tonight but he’s not nearly as wasted as the first couple times and he’s mildly surprised when he realizes that instead of it being awkward it feels even better.

Sid knows what he wants to do next, what he’s been thinking about doing for weeks and that he better start before he loses his nerve. He slides down so that Ovechkin’s cock is no longer trapped between their bodies. Going on the knowledge he’s accumulated over the years from receiving blow jobs Sid sets to work with the mantra “no teeth” repeating in his mind.

Apparently he’s not too bad at it because the first thing Ovechkin does is throw his head back and say something in Russian. Sid puts one hand down on the tense muscles of Ovechkin’s thigh to hold him still while he gingerly takes his cock in his mouth. He tentatively bobs up and down; gratified by the sounds he’s pulling from the other man.

In no time Ovechkin is trying to make him stop, trying to gently steer his mouth away, and Sid stubbornly resists, bearing down and sucking harder. Ovechkin grabs onto Sid’s hair and fucking pulls it, dragging him off, and Sid finally looks up and whines, “Ow.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ovechkin soothes, smiling softly, slightly short of breath. He pushes himself up on his elbows and looks at Sid. He groans and says, “Fuck, Sid, I have dreams about those lips.”

Sid smiles at the compliment but then asks, “So why did you want me to stop? Was it okay?”

Ovechkin laughs. “Is fine,” he assures Sid. “I just want to come different way.”

Sid has a moment of nerves and it must show on his face because Ovechkin grins at him and says, “Don’t worry. Not what you thinking.”

He nudges Sid aside and gets off the bed so he can find supplies. He’s back in seconds with a condom and a sachet of lube he retrieved from his pocket. Ovechkin hands the condom to Sid and tells him, “Here. You do it this time.”

Sid gets the condom open and on without embarrassing himself and watches while Ovechkin squeezes a generous amount of lube into his palm and coats Sid before taking care of himself. Sid’s ready to get up so they can do it like last time but Ovechkin shakes his head and tells him, “No, stay there. I do it.”

To emphasize his point Ovechkin takes Sid’s cock and gives it two or three slow pulls before he pushes Sid down on his back and climbs on top of him, kneeling up. He reaches back and guides Sid as he settles back down and takes Sid in one agonizingly slow motion.

“God,” Ovechkin says roughly as he settles the last little bit in and rests there, tensing his muscles and giving Sid a teasing squeeze. Ovechkin takes both of Sid’s wrists and leans forward, pinning them above his head and leans down and presses their lips together. Then they are kissing and moving together, open-mouthed and messy, gasping every now and then at a particular touch.

Ovechkin lifts slightly and pauses, and they both laugh breathlessly before he leans back in and starts to kiss Sid’s ears and neck. Sid plants his feet and drives up into Ovechkin, craving more friction, needing to thrust, frustrated by the lack. Ovechkin chuckles and lifts himself up, pulling almost all the way off, hands pressed to Sid’s hips so he can’t follow, and then just holds it.....until Sid groans in frustration.

“Fuck,” he gasps. “Just fucking do it.”

Ovechkin is a wicked tease, lowering himself slightly and pulling back again, slowly rotating his hips, taking Sid all the way in. His eyes are closed with pleasure and his face is flushed. Sid stares greedily at his body; every muscle in his thighs is standing out in relief.

He takes a couple shuddering breaths and then finally he gives in to his need and begins to pump up and down in a steady rhythm. Sid digs his fingers into Ovechkin’s hips and gasps, “oh god, oh god, oh god.” Ovechkin’s gold chains clank together on his chest with their motion and Ovechkin impatiently swats them around the back so they aren’t in the way.

Ovechkin releases him, finally allowing Sid to move and Sid snaps his hips up hard. The sensation of tight heat feels incredible; he does it again and again. Before long his quads are burning from the effort but there’s no way he’d stop. Ovechkin has his head thrown back, grunting each time Sid hits home, his cock leaking against their stomachs. Sid is hoarse from gasping encouragement when Ovechkin stiffens and comes, spilling all over Sid’s belly. It’s enough to push Sid over the edge too.

Ovechkin drops onto him limply and Sid pulls him close without thinking, wrapping him in his arms and holding him while they both fight to catch their breath. Sid runs his hands up and down Ovechkin’s heaving chest, soothing him. Only Sid still can’t breathe because Ovechkin is fucking heavy lying on top of him. Sid pushes on Ovechkin’s shoulder, trying to get him to lift up a bit.

Ovechkin groans in protest, only shifting a little, burrowing in closer. He feels absolutely boneless and Sid shakes him again. He can barely draw a breath so he finally elbows him and then just tells him, “You have to get off.”

Ovechkin lifts his head and sighs. “Okay, Sid. Okay. Not snuggler. I get it. Sad for girlfriends.”

“I just can’t breathe,” Sid feels like he needs to explain. He’s a little insulted. He’s not had a lot of complaints in that department.

Ovechkin lifts up gently and then rolls off and Sid sees him wincing slightly when Sid slides out. He’s not sure what to say. “Sorry” or “thank you” come to mind but instead he says nothing and just takes care of the condom, reaching over to drop it in the trash. When he rolls back over Ovechkin has already grabbed his clothes and is heading for the shower. Sid lies on the bed, sweat cooling on his body, and listens to the water running.

Sid’s slightly relieved Ovechkin is obviously planning to get dressed and go. He’s too new to these gay hook up’s to know the correct etiquette. Do you offer to let them stay, insist they leave immediately after sex, order room service, or what? The situation seems fraught with issues and anyway it would be awkward if one of Sid’s team mates were to drop by and find Ovechkin there. It’s best he hit the road.

Sid hears the shower stop and sits up on the edge of the bed waiting his turn. He’s sticky with come and it’s starting to itch so he scratches his belly absently. When Ovechkin comes out he’s already dressed but his shirt is still hanging open. He stops when he sees Sid is awake and shakes his head and smiles while he does up his shirt.

“Crazy times,” he says, as if he can’t quite believe he’s having sex with Sidney Crosby, and then pulls on his jacket.

Sid only nods and watches as he sits down to put on his shoes. He’s still struggling to get his head around it too.

Ovechkin sees Sid watching him and says, “Early plane in morning,” and then smiles apologetically.

“Yeah, sure, us too,” Sid acknowledges. “Well, I guess I should....”

He gets up to go shower and then pauses, “Um...” he starts before realizing he doesn’t know what name he should even use. Ovechkin seems pretty formal for someone you’re fucking but it’s the only way he’s ever referred to the other man.

Ovechkin looks up and waits for him to continue. Sid can feel his face flush while he searches for what he means to say.

“Um, I was just going to say, you know, see you around.”

“Yeah, sure,” Ovechkin agrees. “See you around, Sid.”

He turns to leave and then stops and turns back. “Oh, I almost forget.”

Ovechkin pulls his cell phone out and looks at Sid expectantly. When Sid doesn’t say anything he smiles and says, “What’s your number? I give you mine too. Easier to hook up. Was thinking when teams are playing, you know, if not flying out ...” he finishes with a shrug.

Sid gets it. Boy, does he ever. He clears his throat and recites his cell number and watches as the other man taps in the information. When Ovechkin is done he points to Sid’s phone on the night table and says, “Give me phone, Sid. And I put in my number.”

Sid picks it up and hands it to Ovechkin. The other man fiddles with it a couple minutes and then hands it back, telling Sid, “Okay, all done.”

He smiles softly and says, “ Good night, Sid,” before he goes out the door.

When Sid looks down at his phone he has to laugh. Ovechkin has put his name in as TheGreat8. As he goes to the shower Sid wonders what Ovechkin called him in his own phone. He’ll have to remember to look next time he sees him.

 

**********************************************

 

Sid’s next week starts with a bang. It’s not the fun type but rather the other kind he’s unfortunately growth accustomed to playing hockey. They’re playing the Flyers at home and holding their own. It’s the middle of the second period and the score is tied 2 – 2. Sid’s having a good game and so is Geno; they’ve both got a goal. Sid’s circling around in the neutral zone looking to take the play north with Selander waiting for him at the blue line. Sid can see the play forming in his head; he’ll pass to Selander on the right wing and who will take a shot from the top of the slot. Sid will follow him in looking for the rebound.

Except that’s not exactly what happens. Sid gets the pass off as planned and sees his winger sprinting up ice but what he doesn’t notice is the Flyers hit man, Mathers, coming for him, at least not until it’s almost too late. Sid jogs at the last second but the check still nearly takes his head off. It’s like running into a wall and Sid goes down. He isn’t knocked out because he sees the red light go on down at the other end of the ice but he’s slow getting to his feet.

Tanger skates up ice to congratulate Selander on his goal. When he gets a look at Sid he decides he better stop right where he is. He grabs Sid’s arm, throws it over his shoulder and helps him to the bench. Sid’s sits down and tries to shake it off. He’s had enough of these to know he’s close to concussion territory and he’s so sick of it he just can’t say.

Mathers is called for an elbowing penalty and Geno gets his second goal on the power play. The Penguins are leading 4 – 2. When the trainer suggests Sid go to the dressing room to get checked out he shakes his head. He’s not going to desert his team when they are actually playing well but he doesn’t play another shift either. He’s still reeling when the period ends.

The team doctor is waiting for Sid when he gets to the dressing room and checks him out. He doesn’t find anything too remarkable so he lets Sid sit down with the rest of the team. After a few minutes he starts to feel a bit better. He’s got the beginnings of a familiar headache but he has a drink of Gatorade and tells everyone he’s fine when they ask. Geno looks doubtful but he doesn’t say anything. Neither of them wants to dampen the team’s spirits.

When it’s time to go back out Blysma asks Sid if he’s alright and he tells him damn right. The coach doesn’t look convinced but neither does he want to mess with the team’s mojo so he slaps Sid on the arm and lets him go. The Penguins come out for the third period on fire. The late hit on Sid does served one purpose. His teammates are supremely pissed off. There’s no way in hell they are going to let the Flyers get back in the game.

Philadelphia doesn’t make it easy for them. They come after the Penguins with determination. It’s only a couple great saves by Flower that hold them off. Finally the frustration begins to show when Talbot gets called for cross-checking. Blysma hesitates a moment but then signals for Sid to go out for the power play. He hops over the boards with Geno and Selander but he lets Geno take the face off. He’s not feeling sharp at all.

Sid watches Letang pass the puck up ice to Geno. He’s got Selander trailing him. Sid follows the play and pulls up at the blue line, watching the play unfold as Geno takes a shot on net and then Selander jumps on the rebound. He shoots wide and everyone piles into the corner including Letang who ends up with the puck and gets it out to Sid before anyone realizes he even has it. Sid doesn’t waste any time. He skates to the top of the crease and one times it at the net. It goes in.

Sid disappears under a pile of white jerseys when everyone mobs him. He takes all the kudos with a smile but when he gets back up his head is pounding again. He’s happy to come off when Blysma calls for a change. The Flyers mount a couple more good attacks but the Penguin’s keep them off the score board. The Penguins finally win a game. Sid considers getting the last goal his fuck you to the Philadelphia Flyers.

There’s jubilation in the dressing room when Sid comes out of the shower wrapped in a towel. He’s still feeling dizzy and his head is pounding worse than before. He’s also feeling a bit nauseous. He sits down at his spot and a couple members of the press come around to talk to him about the game. He answers their questions carefully and when they’ve finally gone he puts his head in his hands and then unceremoniously throws up on the floor between his feet. It’s a complete buzz kill.

Sid goes to the hospital for a neuro assessment with one of the trainers. He gets a CT scan and it checks out alright but the team isn’t taking any chances. He’s out for two weeks at least, under observation. He goes home with a bottle of painkillers and a checklist for head injuries. It’s not really necessary. Sid’s got the information committed to memory. The trainers draw straws to see who has to stay with him for the night.

The next morning Sid calls his mom and asks if she’ll come down for a week or two and hang out with him. That’s the problem with being single. He’s not allowed to stay at home alone. The other option is to go stay with the Lemieux’s but he knows Mario and Nathalie are busy with their kids. Trina agrees immediately and promises to be on the first flight she can get. Sid sends the poor trainer home.

He knows what he has to do. The frustrating part is that it’s all happened before. He turns off all the lights and lies in the dark, trying not to over stimulate his brain. He takes the pain killers and waits for them to dull the throbbing in his head. His mom gets there in the afternoon and checks on him. She gets him to drink lots of water and makes him some soup. He tries a bit even though he’s not sure he can keep it down.

His mom is great. She knows the drill. It’s just that Sid can’t help but think that it’s pathetic that he needs to be looked after by his mother when he’s twenty seven. He tries not to get down. The doctors have warned that it’s common to have depression with head injuries. He’s usually a pretty upbeat guy but there are times, through forced inactivity and the pervasive fear that he might not recover from this latest one, that Sid finds himself in a very dark place. That’s when he feels like staying in bed all day and letting the pain pills bury him in a comforting fog.

Sid’s mom knows about this part too. After three days she tells him it’s time to get up and have a shower. She cooks him his favourite food and makes him stay up and watch movies with her. The next day she gets him to go out for a walk and he realizes he doesn’t need the pain medication so much. Another day and the headache and the dark cloud gradually begin to lift. It’s the strangest thing and Sid has no control over it. He wishes he could just tell himself to be happy but it never seems to work.

He feels much better the second week, no dizziness or pain, but the team doctor can’t be swayed. Sid’s off for the duration even though by the end of it he’s climbing the walls. Leisurely walks with his mom and light weight training aren’t enough. They finally let Sid come back to the rink to practise with the team when the two weeks are up. When this produces no new symptoms he’s cleared to be on his own. His mom stocks his place with groceries, makes him some lasagne, tells him to be more careful and flies home to Nova Scotia.

The team’s play has been hot and cold while Sid’s been off. They split two games on a road trip in Ontario and then won a couple at home. But then they dropped one against Columbus and loose in Long Island and then New York City. They’ve come home feeling somewhat dejected and Sid is determined to cheer them up. He puts on his game face while they practise. Sid knows that a lot of a team’s performance is based on what they think they can do

Sid’s around for the next game, not playing, but behind the bench, just supporting the guys. They play a good game and manage to beat the Leafs 3 – 2. Everyone is feeling celebratory after the game, because they won but also because they’ve got Sid back, and no one is in a rush to go home. They’re watching sports in the dressing room and having a couple beers when the highlights of the Flyers – Caps game come on.

It’s something to see. Ovechkin gets a hat trick on the way to a 7 – 2 whipping.   
The best part is the crushing check he delivers to Mathers early in the game that sends the other player through the glass. Sid can’t help but smile when he sees the replay and the rest of the room cheers. It’s vintage Ovechkin; one for the highlight reels.

One of the rookies shakes his head, “Holy shit, I’m glad that wasn’t me,” he says. “That guy’s something else.”

Sid doesn’t say much. His opinion of Ovechkin has been turned on its side this year. He’s a bit ashamed to admit how happy it makes him though when he hears that Mathers has a broken clavicle and will be out for a month. Sid figures it’s payback. The guy just about took his head off. He’s had to stay home with his MOM for the last two weeks for fuck sake. The team feels the same way. They’re all quite happy with the turn of events.

“Asshole had it coming to him,” Jordie mutters while he puts on his coat. “Serves him right.”

Geno nods in assent. “Yeah. He’s a douche,” he tells everyone with utter conviction. The room dissolves in laughter and the Russian ducks his head and smiles sheepishly. His English vocabulary is improving all the time but sometimes things still come out a little bit odd.

They sit around and shoot the shit for a while longer, enjoying the camaraderie, and then Sid heads home. He’s in a good mood because he’s been cleared to play in the game Friday night. It will be good to be back. Sid gets bitchy when he’s not playing. He’s just very lucky his that his mother puts up with him.

There’s almost no traffic this time of night and he’s home in ten minutes. When he takes out his phone he sees he’s got a text from Ovechkin. It reads only ;). Sid snorts in amusement and quickly texts him back, “Was that hit for me?”

A minute later his phone rings. It’s Ovechkin. Sid’s a little surprised. He figured the Cap’s would be out celebrating after a game like the one they just played but he answers his phone immediately.

“Hey,” Sid says, and then pauses, unaccustomedly tongue-tied.

“Sid, how are you?” Ovechkin starts in, concern apparent in his voice.

He smiles and sits down on his couch. “Yeah. I’m doing better. Got cleared to play again Friday.”

“Not too soon?” Ovechkin asks.

“Nah, I don’t think so. I feel good,” Sid assures him. “So, how come you aren’t out partying after your big game?”

Ovechkin sighs. “Wish I was. At airport. Flying to Tampa Bay. Game tomorrow.”

“That sucks,” Sid tells him. He hates having to fly right after a game. “Well, have a good game.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Ovechkin tells him. “Look, don’t have much time. I just want to make sure you’re better.”

“Yeah. I’m fine. Thanks,” Sid says. “Hey, was that hit on Mathers for me?” he laughs.

Ovechkin laughs and then tries to sound offended. “What you mean? You know me. Always play physical game,” and then he softens. “Well, maybe a bit more physical with Mathers. Fucking asshole. Teach him not to mess with boyfriend, Sidney Crosby.”

“Boyfriend?” Sid sputters. Despite what the two of them are doing there’s no way Sid is his boyfriend. The idea doesn’t bear thinking about.

Ovechkin laughs some more. “Well, you know what I mean,” he smoothes. “Show him anyway.”

“Right,” Sid laughs. “Well, thanks all the same. It made my night.”

“Good,” Ovechkin tells him, still chuckling. Then he gets more serious. “I mean it though, Sid. Be careful. Concussion scary thing.”

“Yeah, I know. I will,” Sid tells him.

“Was worried. I call you know? Did mom tell you?” Ovechkin asks.

“No. When?” Sid asks, surprised.

“Right after you hurt. Talked to your mom. She say you resting.”

“No. She didn’t say anything,” Sid tells him. He’s irrationally angry with his mother for not telling him Ovechkin had called.

“Is no big deal, Sid. Just want to make sure okay. Prolly lots of calls.”

“Yeah,” Sid agrees. Ovechkin’s right. If there’s one thing Sid remembers from the fog of the first few days it’s the phone ringing and his mothers hushed voice in the other room. But he’s touched that Ovechkin took the time to call and wishes he’d known sooner.

He can hear talking in the background and then Ovechkin speaks again. “Look, Sid. Have to get on plane now so better go.”

“Okay. Well, thanks,” he tells Ovechkin. “Thanks for calling.”

“Take care, Sidney,” the other man tells him and then hangs up. Sid goes to bed smiling.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

Sid doesn’t hear from Ovechkin again until the night before the Caps come to town. It’s a short message, just the name of his hotel and the room number but it’s all Sid needs. He knows that after the game, no matter how it turns out, he going to be there. He takes a second to text a quick reply, ”I’ll be there,” and gets an even shorter "Good!" in rely. 

The game is a real barn burner, one of the best of the season. It’s also the feature game on Hockey Night in Canada and all the press are covering it. The Penguins are determined to put on a good show. They hold on until the middle of the third, leading 2 -1. It’s Flower goalkeeping that’s making the difference.

But the Caps juggernaut, lead by Ovechkin, can’t be contained forever. He gets two unanswered goals and then one into the empty net for a hat trick, his forth of the season. Despite the loss, Sid’s pretty happy with the game. He played well despite his recent layoff and had some good scoring chances. If the Caps goalie hadn’t been equally good he might have got a goal. As it is, he assisted on the two they got.

The guys are going out for a few beers to celebrate but Sid begs off. Instead of going home like he’s told his teammates Sid drives over to the Hilton. He’s purposely dressed down, not in his usual game night suit. He’s wearing jeans, a nondescript hoodie and a baseball cap, hoping he won’t be recognized. When he walks through the hotel lobby Sid’s glad to see it’s almost empty.

Sid waits for an elevator and prays that he doesn’t bump into any Caps players. His luck holds and when the door opens on Ovechkin’s floor Sid breathes a sigh of relief. He knocks gently on Ovechkin’s door waits impatiently for him to open it. It seems to take forever. Sid realizes that, should one of the Caps come out of their room and see him, he has no plausible explanation as to why he’s there.

Sid knocks again, louder this time, and swears under his breath. When Ovechkin finally opens the door he’s dressed in only a towel. Sid ducks into the room immediately and shuts the door behind them, a wave of relief washing over him. He toes off his shoes and leaves them by the door.

“Sorry, Sid,” Ovechkin tells him, waving towards the bathroom. “Wasn’t sure I heard knock.”

His hair is still dripping wet and he towels himself off while they stand by the door. Sid can’t take his eyes off of the dark trail of hair leading down Ovechkin's abdomen and disappearing beneath the towel slung low around his hips. It’s been far too long and Sid is already almost beside himself with want. It’s all he can do to nod dumbly.

Ovechkin smiles warmly. “Is good to see you, Sid,” he says and then bends to give Sid a quick kiss. “Come in. I just.......” he waves towards the open bathroom door.

“Oh, sorry,” Sid apologizes, looking towards the bathroom where he can hear the water is still running. For a strange moment he imagines there is someone else in there but he immediately pushes the thought away.

“Is okay,” Ovechkin tells him, “I go turn off water.” He gestures towards the couch. “Go sit down. Get drink if you want.”

There’s the familiar bottle of vodka on the table along with a tub of ice. Ovechkin’s obviously already started so Sid throws some ice in a glass and fills it with vodka. He sits on the couch and has a couple sips while he waits for Ovechkin to come back.

Sid looks around the room at the belongings scattered there. The room could belong to anyone on his team. There’s conservative black carry-on luggage, a passport and wallet on the dresser and a coat thrown over the back of a chair. It’s pretty tame stuff for someone as colourful as Ovechkin. Sid’s not sure what exactly he expected, possibly an entourage of exotic foreigners complete with vory v zakone body guards and Russian prostitutes. The belongings look so boringly familiar they could be Sid’s.

Ovechkin comes out of the bathroom and instead of joining Sid he immediately goes immediately to his suitcase and starts rummaging through it. Sid sips his drink and watches curiously while Ovechkin moves his clothing from side to side. Ovechkin’s still only wearing a towel and the way it’s dipping even lower on one hip is making Sid even harder. He shifts to make himself more comfortable.

“Looking, looking,” Ovechkin mutters softly before cracking a big smile and crowing, “Ah ha, here it is.” He looks like he’s discovered Christmas.

He turns to Sid and smiles again but more softly, almost shyly, before handing him a ....... tastefully wrapped present. Sid is stunned by this turn of events and can only sit there staring at the gift in his hands, not sure what to do with it. 

“What’s this?” he finally asks quietly.

Ovechkin chuckles. “Is present, Sid. What's it look like?” he tells him. “Late birthday present. Or could be early Christmas present. Take your pick.”

“Oh,” is all Sid can manage to come up with.

Ovechkin holds up a hand, “Bit late, I know. But first chance I get. Didn’t know for sure you’d be in New York before,” he explains.

Sid looks down at the gift and picks at the tape tentatively. He’s completely dumbfounded. Ovechkin sits down on the couch beside him and throws his feet up on the coffee table.

“You open it? Or just look at it all night?” he asks, shaking his head and leaning back into the couch. “Is no big deal,” he adds dismissively as he becomes aware of Sid’s discomfort.

“Um, yeah,” Sid nods and starts carefully pealing the tape off carefully so that he won't tear the wrapping paper. He’s mortified when he sees his hands are shaking slightly.

Ovechkin gives an impatient groan and says, “Sid, just rip it. You gonna take all night like this.”

Sid finally gets the paper off and flips over the present. It’s a hardcover book on Russian fighter jets. “Oh, wow,” he murmurs. He vaguely remembers talking to Ovechkin about jet fighters in the bar some time ago. Sid’s always loved jets and air shows and especially the precision teams that perform at them. He flips through the pages looking at the color photos inside.

“It’s awesome,” he tells the other man sincerely. When he holds the book open at the front cover he sees there are signatures inside. He squints to read them and then looks up at Ovechkin in confusion.

“Who’s signed it?” he asks softly.

Ovechkin grins at him and looks down at the open book. “I know guy in Russia, is pilot in Air Force. I see him when I go home last summer. After I buy book. He get Russian Knights to sign for you.”

Sid jus stares down at the page in silence. He’s humbled by the amount of thought Ovechkin has put into this. He doesn’t know what to say.

“So you like?” Ovechkin asks him worriedly. He leans forward, intent on Sid's reply.

“Yeah. It’s great,” Sid tells him immediately. “It’s just......” He’s at a loss for words and finds he has to clear his throat.

“Is okay, Sid,” Ovechkin tells him, clearly pleased with his answer. “No big deal. Like I say. I just see book and I think of you.”

Ovechkin takes the book from Sid’s hands and puts it down on the coffee table and then climbs onto Sid’s lap. He sits astride Sid and puts a wide hand on each side of Sid’s face and pulls him in for a deep kiss. He smells like soap but with the unmistakable earthy tone of his own that Sid immediately recognizes. Ovechkin's mouth tastes like vodka and toothpaste and when he sucks Sid's tongue in he can't help but moan. The towel is almost off now.

“Anyway,” he grins. “Enough of that stuff. Time for sex.”

Sid can’t agree more. The way Ovechkin is grinding himself into Sid’s lap makes him think he’s going to come before he can get out of his clothes. Sid starts to wiggle out of his hoodie but then dissolves into laughter when Ovechkin takes over and impatiently and pulls it over his head. He’s relieved to be back on familiar ground.

Sid leans forward and takes one of Ovechkin’s nipples in his mouth, nips at it and then when the other man grunts in surprise, soothes it with soft kisses. He slides his hand under Ovechkin’s towel and finds he’s fully erect as well. Sid slides his hand further down, cups Ovechkin’s balls and gives them a gentle squeeze while he switches to the other nipple and sucks it with enough force to make Ovechkin groan.

“Jesus, Sid,” he gasps, dropping his head on Sid’s shoulder. He gives Sid a playful nip on the side of his neck and then slides off his lap. He stands up and holds out his hand to Sid.

“Come to bed,” he tells him.

Sid doesn’t need to be told twice. He’s up immediately and follows Ovechkin to the bedroom. The towel slides to the floor part way there and Sid can’t help but stare at Ovechkin's muscular ass as he walks. Sid unzips his jeans on the way to save time and has them off when he reachs the bed. His boxers follow quickly. He’s glad to see that Ovechkin already has condoms and lube waiting on the night stand.

Ovechkin grabs the lube, intending to prep himself, but Sid stops him.

“No,” he tells him. “Let me.”

“Is okay, Sid. I do it,” Ovechkin assures him.

Sid just smiles and shakes his head, taking the bottle of lube from the other man. “No, I want to. I mean it,” he tells him and then leans in to give Ovechkin a sloppy kiss.

Ovechkin looks slightly doubtful but he doesn’t argue especially once Sid pushes him down on the bed and lies on top of him. Sid bucks his hips lazily and their cocks drag together. The friction makes his breath catch. He leans down and gives Ovechkin another deep kiss.

“I want you to show me what to do. I want to learn. Okay?” he asks when he finally pulls away.

“Okaaaaay,” Ovechkin agrees.

Sid slides off Ovechkin and kneels on the bed. He takes a second to just look at the man lying naked before him. He runs his fingers leisurely over Ovechkin’s torso, brushing over the words tattooed on his side. Sid’s seen them before; he knows they refer to Ovechkin’s brother. Oddly, they’re in English and Sid finds them extremely moving. He's touched by the gesture; how Ovechkin has chosen to honor his older sibling who is gone. He traces over the lines and it makes Ovechkin shiver.

Sid takes in the veins running along muscular arms, smooth skin over a flat broad chest, small brown nipples, his erection lying firmly against his stomach. The sight rouses him; no woman could ever compare. Ovechkin is playoff fit already, no body fat adding softness to his well muscled body. He’s beautifully but together.

Sid looks up to find Ovechkin watching him. “Sorry,” he smiles, embarrassed, knowing Ovechkin has followed his eyes as they’ve studied his body.

“Don’t be,” the other man smiles. “You can look. Not going anyplace,” he laughs and reaches out to caress Sid’s waist.

Sid’s glad Ovechkin is not in a rush either. Their first couple times have been rushed and frantic affairs. Despite how horny he is, tonight Sid wants to take his time. He wants to pay attention to what he’s doing, learn how to do it right. Sid’s always wanted to do things right. It's how he is. He’ll work at it until he does.

He runs the palm of his hand up Ovechkin’s cock. It jerks at the touch, or possibly it’s Ovechkin’s whole body that does. Sid watches his own fingers trail along the length, following the veins, his thumb sliding smoothly over the head. Sid thinks about what he’s going to do next. The last time he’d been pretty drunk and rushing so he wouldn’t back out. Now he knows it’ll be okay, that it’s what he wants.

He inches back and then leans down, kissing Ovechkin’s lower stomach for a while before tentatively sliding his tongue out and over the smooth, stretched skin, letting it replace the caress of his fingers. He tastes the tip, wrapping his mouth around it and swirling his tongue simultaneously. Ovechkin shifts a little under him and groans again. The realization that he’s enjoying it turns Sid on and makes his own cock throb more persistently.

Sid pulls off and looks up at Ovechkin again. He’s got his eyes shut but when Sid stops he opens them again. He pulls his knees up and spreads his legs apart hopefully, giving Sid more access, watching through half lidded eyes. Sid runs a hand lightly up Ovechkin’s thigh and along the crease where it meets his body and then dips down between his legs and over his balls. Ovechkin's skin is warm and moist from the shower and Sid nuzzles in close, licking over his sack. Sid feels rather than sees Ovechkin’s head drop back limply on the pillow.

Sid nuzzles and licks some more, running his hands up and down the other man’s spread thighs and then finally drops one hand down and starts ghosting his fingers over the tight opening. After a minute Ovechkin lets out a sigh and writhes impatiently. Sid picks up the lube and squeezes some onto his fingers. He’s not totally sure about this part but he’s not stopping now that he’s gone this far.

“Okay, you have to tell me what to do now,” he admits quietly.

Ovechkin looks at him. Sid braces himself to be made fun of but instead he gets a soft smile. “Sure, Sid. One finger first. Just go slow. Wait and I turn over so easier.”

Before Sid can tell him no, that's not what he wants, Ovechkin rolls onto his stomach and pulls up one knee to give Sid more access. Sid rests a hand on Ovechkin’s ass and slowly circles his other index finger around the puckered opening, smoothing lube over it. He gently slides his finger inside and is surprised that it’s not what he expected at all, not that he really knew what he expected. It’s smooth and velvety and hot and so incredibly tight Sid can’t believe he’s had his cock in there. No wonder it’s feels so incredible when he’s fucking him.

Sid slides his finger in and out, in and out, and then finally asks, “Now what?”

Sid can feel Ovechkin start to laugh but he answers him immediately. “Now two fingers. And then you can, you know....”

Sid slides in a second finger, careful to go slowly and then works them both in and out a few times. Finally he sighs and looks up, forced to admit defeat, because, after all, he most certainly does not know. After all, this is the whole point.

"Look, I don't know, um, what you mean," he mumbles.

Ovechkin looks over his shoulder with a puzzled expression and sees that Sid’s not kidding. He smiles and shakes his head. “Sid, Sid. You missing a lot. Look, I show you.”

Ovechkin takes Sid’s hand and turns it so he’s got it at the right angle. Then he pushes his fingers in a little farther and then tells him, “Okay, can you feel there, is.....um lump?”

Sid slides his fingers around inside and things he can. “Yeah. I think so.”

“Okay, so now you bend fingers and rub,” he explains but when Sid does as instructed the rest of Ovechkin’s sentence is lost in a low groan. He seems to have lost his train of thought.

Sid does it again and he groans louder. “Is that it? Does that feel good?”

Ovechkin says something in Russian and puts his head down on his arm. Sid figures that’s a yes. Sid keeps repeating the movement and Ovechkin starts thrusting his hips in counterpoint to each stroke over his prostate. Sid has an idea. He decides he wants more access to Ovechkin’s cock so he nudges him in the side, urging him to turn onto his back again. The other man responds immediately, throwing his legs open and laying with one arm thrown across his face. He looks completely wanton.

Sid follows him around and when his fingers come out he repositions his hand and slides in three. He traces a line across Ovechkin’s pubic bone with his other hand and then bends down so that he can take his cock in his mouth again, licking and teasing with his tongue. He knows it must be like torture but he loves how Ovechkin starts to quiver underneath him, how he is losing control of his breathing with each stroke of Sid’s fingers.

Ovechkin has one hand rested on the back of Sid’s neck pushing down slightly in a gentle plea for more contact. Sid won’t comply though. He just keeps licking, knowing it’s not quite enough. Ovechkin’s breathing is getting erratic, pre-cum is seeping from him as he thrusts upward, desperate for Sid to take him deeper. Sid looks at him again, his head is tilted back, his mouth half open in a moan, a glaze of sweat has formed on his forehead and upper body and to Sid he looks amazing. Sid’s heart skips a beat at the sight that his touch is causing this.

Sid finally takes pity on the other man. He takes him fully into his mouth and sucks hard, stroking his fingers over his prostate at the same time. Ovechkin lifts off the bed, arching his whole body at the welcome sensation and Sid lets him thrust into him. He’s surprised though when Ovechkin cries out almost immediately and comes in his mouth, flooding it with salty fluid.

Sid pulls off, slightly startled, and his first instinct is to spit over the side of the bed because really, yuck? But they he decides that would be rude so instead because when you think about it, there is only one alternative Sid sits up and swallows it all down. He’s pretty sure he has a stunned look on his face. There’s a dribble of come on his chin so he wipes it off with the back of his hand.

Ovechkin is immediately contrite. As soon as he’s got his wits about him he sits up and reaches for Sid. He has a horrified look on his face. He probably figures that’s the last blow job he’s going to get from Sidney Crosby.

"Fuck. Sorry, Sid,” he apologizes. “Happen so fast. Should’ve warned you. Stopped you. Sorry.”

Sid can’t help but laugh at how flustered he is. He shakes his head and slides up to lie on his side next to Ovechkin and rests one arm over Ovechkin’s waist. He uses the other one to support his own head.

“It’s okay,” he smiles. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sid really means it. After the initial surprise and unusual sensation it’s really not that big of a deal and he doesn’t want Ovechkin feeling bad about it. In fact, making Ovechkin come undone like that, having that kind of control was really, really hot.

Sid watches Ovechkin while his breathing calms. He still doesn’t look convinced so instead of saying anything he runs his hand over his sensitive, half hard cock and Ovechkin groans.

“Fuck, Sid. You gonna kill me.”

Sid rocks against him, dropping kisses along Ovechkin’s shoulder, showing him how hard he is. Ovechkin gets the hint and reaches for Sid’s cock, giving it a couple slow pulls.

“Okay, you’re turn. What you want?”

“Turn over,” Sid tells him, biting his shoulder.

While Ovechkin gets on his knees Sid puts on a condom and spreads lube over his cock. He grabs onto Ovechkin’s hips, gets between his knees and slides home. It’s like the first times they fucked except this time Sid wants to do a better job, wants to make the other man love it. He takes his time, kissing across his shoulders and nipping at the angle of his neck. Sid wants to make it good; slow careful thrusts, designed to rouse and then slowly undo the other man.

Ovechkin pushes back groaning, “Sid, harder,” and reaches down to stroke himself. Sid won’t have any of it. He takes both of Ovechkin’s hands and places them on the headboard of the bed so he can’t reach his rapidly hardening cock. Sid’s determined to last long enough to make him come again just by fucking him now that he knows what to do, where he's aiming for. Judging by the sounds Ovechkin is already making he's on the right track. It won’t be too long.

He does pick up the tempo though, rocking in hard and fast, his balls slapping against Ovechkin’s ass with each stroke. Sid’s wondered before if he’s too rough but when he hears the sounds, like now, when he’s fucking Ovechkin hard and fast he knows he’s doing it just right. The guys begging for it and so Sid bows his head down and just gives it to him.

Sid can tell he’s close himself so he finally decides to reach around and stroke Ovechkin while he thrusts so that he can bring him off first. They are both drenched in sweat, their voices hoarse, when Ovechkin comes with a bucking groan and collapses on the bed. Sid pumps only a few more times before he’s coming too and falls down on Ovechkin breathlessly. He doesn't feel like he'll be able to move for a while.

Ovechkin rolls on his side and pulls Sid in against him. He pulls the covers up over the two of them and Sid lies there with his head resting on Ovechkin’s still heaving chest. He knows he should clean up and go home but lying here like this feels nice and he can’t bring himself to move. The most he can manage is dealing with the condom. They fall asleep with the lights on; the cumulative effects of the game and the sex too much for both them.

Sid is woken up some time later by loud banging on the door and shouts in Russian. He recognizes Geno’s voice immediately. Ovechkin gives a frustrated curse and they both stare at the door, hoping that the knocking will stop. Unfortunately it doesn’t and Geno’s shouts only get louder. He’s going to wake the whole fucking building up at this rate.

Ovechkin mutters something in Russian and gets out of bed, pulling on some sweat pants and then turns and looks pointedly at Sid. It takes a minute because Sid’s brain is still foggy from sleep but he finally gets it. When he does he’s out of bed like a shot, grabs his clothes and heads for the bathroom before Ovechkin has to let Geno in. Sid gets dressed faster than he’s ever done in his life, hoping frantically that Geno doesn’t decide he needs to take a piss.

He can hear the two of them talking out in the room, no doubt most everyone on the floor can. Sid suddenly remembers the book and the wrapping paper on the table. Fuck. They’re speaking in Russian so Sid can’t understand a thing they are saying but he can tell Geno is incredibly drunk. Hopefully he won’t remember any of this in the morning. Finally Sid hears Geno leave and then a soft knock on the bathroom door to let him know the coast is clear.

“What did he want?” Sid hisses when he comes out. His heart feels like it might beat out of his chest and he feels like he could throw up.

Ovechkin must see how upset Sid is because he pulls him into a calming hug. “Is okay, Sid. He just wonder why I not go to club with them tonight. Is all,” he explains. He rests his chin on the back of Sid’s neck, kissing him, and then chuckles, “Stupid, drunk Russian.”

Sid is still shaking and Ovechkin can feel it. He rubs his hand over Sid’s back and tells him, “Don’t worry. I tell him was tired. He don’t know anyone here.”

Sid pulls away. He’s relieved but he realizes he’s damn lucky they didn’t get caught. “But the book,” he says.

Ovechkin looks shocked. “Hey, I maybe read book some time. Never know.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sid says. 

He hates to seem so uptight about the whole thing but he still feels like he might have a heart attack any minute and all he needs is for one of the other Russians to drop by for a late night visit, like fucking Semin. That would be something. Sid picks up his gift and turns to go. He really could use a shower. He probably reeks of sex but he figures he better get the hell out of here before anything else happens.

“I better go home. Thanks for this,” he tells Ovechkin, holding out the book.

“Is nothing, Sid,” Ovechkin tells him once more. "You okay to drive? Not too tired?" he askes worriedly.

"I'm fine," Sid tells him quickly, although his heart is still racing. "I have to go."

Ovechkin doesn't look entirely convinced but he nods and tells him, "Okay, Sid. See you later."

“Yeah, later,” Sid agrees.

He puts the book under his hoodie and takes off down the hall, praying he doesn’t bump into anyone else coming home from the bar. Sid takes the elevator down to the parkade and finds his car. He drives home carefully, concentrating on what he's doing, so that he doesn't have any problems. His hands don’t stop shaking until he pulls into his own garage.

When Sid finishes practise the next morning he sees he’s got a text from Ovechkin. It’s short and to the point. “U OK?” It makes Sid smile.

When Sid gets home he calls the other man. It goes right to voice mail so Sid figures he’s still flying and just leaves a brief message. Ovechkin returns his call a couple hours later.

“Hey,” Sid greets him while he turns down the volume on the TV.

“Hi, Sid. You get home alfight? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Fine,” Sid nods. He's had enough time to calm down. Geno had been pretty subdued at practise that morning but he’d not mentioned anything about Sid or Ovechkin being missed from the celebration the night before. 

“Geno wasn’t looking too good at practise,” he laughs.

Ovechkin snorts and then says something in Russian. “Serve him right. Lucky he found way to room.”

“Yeah. Blysma was pretty pissed off.”

“There he go. Give Russians bad reputation,” Ovechkin grumbles. He changes the subject. “You at home Sid? What you up to?”

“Um, yeah. Not doing much. Just watching Sports Center. You?”

Ovechkin laughs. “Same. Mom cook dinner. Make me blini for getting hat trick.”

“Nice. So you’re parents stay in DC all winter?” Sid asks, thinking that they must have a place nearby.

“Live with me, Sid,” Ovechkin tells him.

“Really?” To Sid it just seems odd.

“Sure. Maybe one day they don’t. But works good now.”

Sid can hear Tatyana talking in the background and Ovechkin answering her in Russian. When he comes back Ovechkin tells him, “Have to go. Dinner ready. Look. Have good Christmas, Sidney.”

“Yeah. You too,” Sid tells him.

When he hangs up Sid realizes he’s kind of hungry so he orders a pizza. It’s either that or the four day old Chinese food he’s got left in the fridge. He wonders if maybe Ovechkin has the right idea having his family with him. Sid almost wishes he were there too, eating blini's with the Ovechkin's. Once he's eaten his pizza Sid goes to bed. He's got an early practise in the morning.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

After Malkin’s surprise visit Sid and Ovechkin decide to keep up appearances by going out with their teams first before disappearing to one or the others hotel room. When the teams meet the two of them go out with the guys. For Ovechkin it’s nothing new. For Sid these appearances are a little out of character. His teammates are surprised at first but no one is complaining; they’re glad he’s coming out with them. Sid tells them, and himself, that it’s team building; all part of being captain.

Geno has always met with his fellow Russians after Caps games so it’s not terribly odd when Sid starts coming along. The Caps players take to him despite his geek-like tendencies. Backy has always friendly, he’s a genuinely nice guy and Mike Green is cool too. The new kid Kovalchuk follows Ovechkin around like a puppy so he accepts Sid without question. Sid’s know Brooks Laich for years and they’ve always gotten along. 

The only Cap who keeps Sid at a distance is Alex Semin. He treats Sid with a kind of cool indifference that makes Sid think he knows something is up. Despite Semin Sid is accepted into Ovechkin’s sphere for the most part. They hang out. In public they act like they’re casual friends but at the end of the night they go back to the hotel room together and fuck. Sid still calls him Ovechkin out loud but he’s a little surprised when he realizes that, in his head, he’s started thinking of him as Alex.

Ovechkin dances with the beautiful girls and Sid hangs back being his painfully awkward self but it’s all okay. The guys tolerate his oddness. They try to introduce him to girls. It’s as if Ovechkin’s aura of coolness has somehow rubbed off on Sid indirectly and he’s no longer the complete nerd he used to be. He doesn’t even attempt to dance though many of the club girls are willing. The guys all joke with him about it but he just shakes his head. Sid finds he’s actually enjoying himself.

The schedule is slanted in the second half of the season. Where they only met the Caps a couple times before Christmas, afterwards they seem to playing each other all the time. They meet three times in January and twice more in February. As the season grinds on Sid and Alex hook up whenever they get the chance, texting their room number to the other as soon as they get to town. It’s casual but it works.

The only downside to the whole situation is that the Penguins aren’t playing very well. And by not very well Sid admits they totally suck. The team’s play is wildly uneven; they can’t string two wins together to save their lives. Blysma has taken to staring off into space from the bench, no doubt wondering what game they are playing because it sure as hell isn’t hockey. Sid’s not sure what they’re playing sometimes either.

Right now it doesn’t look like they’ll make the playoffs. Sid isn’t on the All Star team for the first time in forever but doesn’t really bother him. Ovechkin is named to the first team and captains the team representing the East. They win convincingly. Sid enjoys the win for Alex’s sake but he doesn’t miss being there, not really. He’s having the best sex of his life. For the first time there’s something Sid thinks about as much as hockey.

Geno feels bad that Sid didn’t go and decides he needs cheering up. He comes over for a couple beers after the break and he’s got something for Sid. It’s a framed picture and Sid recognises where it was taken immediately. It’s from New York at the Sports Illustrated banquet. Sid is standing with Ovechkin and Malkin on either side of him, arms thrown over each other’s shoulders, grinning madly at the camera. The caption below reads “Three Kings.”

Sid loves it. He’s touched at Geno’s thoughtfulness. While he looks at it his throat get tight and when he thanks the other man his voice is choked with emotion. Geno just shrugs and says it’s nothing but he looks like there’s more he could say. Sid wonders if maybe Geno knows. He looks at the photo for ages when Geno leaves and then takes down one of the pictures in the hallway and hangs it in its place. 

Sid can’t actually put his finger on when it happens, when they become, not just friends with benefits, but close friends. Sid starts calling Alex often, just to talk. The first time Sid is lying around the hotel room bored after a game and sees Alex score an amazing goal on the sports highlights. It’s vintage Ovie, not so much skating around the defence as through them, and then shooting one handed while he’s dragged to the ice. Sid calls to congratulate him.

The next time Alex calls Sid to cheer him up after a particularly bad loss. He’s knows how it feels to be on a losing streak. There’s nothing worse, just as there’s nothing better than being a roll, winning game after game. The two of them talk about the games, bad calls, how they’re playing, their teammates, and their various aches and pains. Sometimes they talk about their families and real lives.

The Penguins fly out to Vancouver and they actually pull a good game out of their asses and win one. Sid get’s a hat trick and after the game Alex texts him, “Good game.”

Sid is still in the dressing room when he reads it and can’t help but smile as he realizes that, half a continent away, Alex has been watching him play. He texts back, “Thanks”, followed by a smiley face and wonders when he ever started using fucking smiley faces

Jordie sees him grinning at his phone and tries to snatch it away. “Hey, Crosby, what are you doing? Someone sexting you?”

The guys all crowd around and Sid flushes red and quickly tucks his phone back in his bag. “Fuck off,” he tells them all good naturedly.

“No, seriously,” Jordie continues. “Is there someone we should know about? You and Christine aren’t getting serious are you?”

Sid shrugs noncommittally and lets them think what they want. He hasn’t thought about Christine in ages so he wouldn’t exactly call their relationship serious. But he figures it’s probably a good idea that the guys think he’s seeing Christine even though most of them can’t stand her. It’s better than them suspecting the truth.

 

*******************************

 

The next time the Penguins play the Caps Sid texts Alex his room number after he’s checked in but gets no reply. It’s a first but Sid is not immediately concerned. They’re both busy people. He figures Alex must be out all day at some kind of function. So he goes to team warm up and doesn’t really think about it until he texts again before the game and still gets no answer.

The teams meet that night without Sid ever hearing from Alex and it’s beginning to weigh on his mind. Just to prove the exception to the rule the Penguins come out flat against the far superior Caps and play like shit. They are behind by three goals at the end of the first period and start to get frustrated. It turns into a pretty chippy game and there are a couple fights in the second period.

Sid plays his worst game of the season. He keeps coughing up the puck in the neutral zone and the Capitals make the most of it. He finishes the game at an ignoble minus three. Blysma looks at him and just shakes his head.

Alex doesn’t play much better. He’s barely a factor in the game and whenever Sid watches him he seems distracted. Sid skates around him at one point to get a closer look and he looks pale and tired. Finally, when the play is whistled dead with the puck over the glass Sid skates up to him and asks, “Are you alright?”

Alex looks slightly surprised at the question and furtively glances around before answering, “Yeah. Okay, Sid,” he tells him. He gives a quick smile before he skates away and that’s all Sid can do. It’s not like the two of them can have much of a conversation out here. He’ll have to talk to him after the game.

The game ends with a 6 – 2 score and two more fights. Sid thinks they may have set a league record for penalty minutes. Even Salender, the rookie, gets in a bit of a mix up with Mike Green over something silly. Alex leaves the game early after taking a stick to the mouth and all Sid can do is watch as he spits blood onto the ice before heading to the dressing room. He hopes Alex hasn’t damaged another tooth.

No one really feels much like celebrating afterwards but Sid talks Geno into coming out with him to meet the Caps players after the game. The rest of the Penguins go back to the hotel to lick their wounds. Jordie is out for at least one game with a groin pull and Letang has had to get five stitches. Even Geno, Sid’s wingman, is not in the best of moods. Someone elbowed him in the nose and, although not broken, it’s swollen and sore.

When they walk into the pub Sid see’s Backy and Semin sitting at a corner table with Kovalchuk but he doesn’t see Alex. They join the Caps players over a pitcher of beer. Sid tells Geno he’ll buy which cheers him up a little and the two of them grudgingly congratulate the others on their win. Kovalchuk is especially happy. He’s got his first NHL hat trick tonight.

“Where’s Ovechkin,” Sid asks casually after what he figures is a decent interval.

Semin gives him a long look before answering. “He got family stuff. Prolly not come out tonight. He tell me to say hi, Sid.”

“Oh, okay,” Sid nods. He tries to make conversation with the others but his heart isn’t in it. Without Alex here, there’s really no point. Anyway, it’s not like Alex Semin is falling all over himself to make conversation with Sid. After their initial exchange he ignores Sid completely although he and Geno do fall into some good natured ribbing about the game. Geno asks him why he didn’t get involved in the fighting. Poor Semin has never lived down the infamous slap fight he got into years before.

After an hour or so Sid asks Geno if he wants to go back to the hotel and he readily agrees. On the way out he brings up Semin.

“What’s with Semin?” he asks.

“What you mean?”

Sid presses on. “What’s with him and Ovechkin?”

“They good friends. Know each other for years. Play together lots. Same as me. Why you ask, Sid?”

“I don’t think he likes me,” Sid tells him.

Geno just shrugs and says nothing which isn’t exactly reassuring. He’s not sure why but sometimes, because of the long history the two men share, Sid gets unaccountably jealous of Sasha Semin.

“So, you don’t think they two of them are....you know, fooling around?” he finally asks.

Geno stops walking and give Sid an extremely odd look. The look of surprise on his face is almost comical. “Um......no,” he answers. “Why you ask that?”

“Well, I just thought maybe if they were, that would explain why....” Sid begins until he realizes he is saying far too much. He stops talking.

Geno watches him guardedly and then tells him, “No, Semin 100 % straight. Know for fact.”

He does seem very certain it and so Sid feels slightly better. He’s still not too happy that Alex didn’t come out but he’s certainly willing to drop the subject of Semin. They take a cab back to their hotel. On the way Sid thinks of one more question for Geno.

“Geno?” Sid starts.

“What, Sid?”

“What was your feud about with Ovechkin?” he asks. He remembers hearing lots of speculation about it at the time but he’s never gotten an explanation. Obviously it’s over now, the two of them are friends, but Sid’s still curious. He feels like he needs to know everything about Alex.  
It doesn’t look like he’s going to learn it from Geno though. The Russian is tight lipped on the subject.

“Is old story, Sid. History. Not important now.”

He looks ahead and Sid can tell that’s all he’s going to get. He’ll have to ask Alex some time if he thinks of it. Sid texts the other man one more time when he gets to his room, asking him, “Went to pub with Geno. Where were you?”

Sid goes to bed and falls into an exhausted post game sleep, certain that Alex won’t be coming. He’s awoken by a knock on the door some time later. Sid stumbles out of bed, awoken from a deep sleep, and opens the door. It’s Alex. Sid rubs the sleep from his eyes while he comes in and sits down on the edge of the bed.

Alex looks worn out, exhausted and he’s got the remnants of a black eye and six stitches in his upper lip. Sid’s pretty sure the eye isn’t from tonight but it looks fairly recent.

Sid takes one look at him and asks, “Do you need some ice?”

Alex shakes his head and smiles lopsidedly until he realizes how much it hurts his split lip and says, “No. Have ice already.” He puts his hand to his mouth and says, “Not so pretty tonight.”

“Good game,” Sid tells him. “We sucked but you guys were good. Kovalchuk was great.”

Alex shrugs. “Yeah. He’s good kid.”

He remains on the edge of the bed with his eyes downcast and Sid isn’t sure what’s going on. He’s never seen Alex like this, so subdued. Instead of saying anything Sid just leans in and kisses him gently on the lips, careful not to injure his lip any further.

He unzips Sid’s coat, slips it off his shoulders and lays it on the second bed. He helps the other man get his t-shirt over his head, being sure not to let it scrap against the stitches. Alex is unusually passive during it all and allows Sid to undress him; stands when Sid wants him to and lets him pull off his pants and shoes.

Sid lies down on the bed and pulls Alex on top of him, grabbing onto his ass to urge him on. It’s a handful. Alex returns his kisses and they make out on the bed for a few minutes until finally Alex sighs and pulls away. He rolls off of Sid and lies on his back on the bed.

“Look, Sid,” he says, “maybe mistake. Not good idea to come tonight.”

“Why?” Sid’s asks, struggling to keep frustration out of his voice. Sid’s body thinks it’s a damn good idea judging from the way his erection is tenting his boxers. But when he looks at Alex he notices the other man is nowhere close to the same state.

Alex looks down where Sid is looking and shrugs. “Things on mind,” he tells him. “You know? Life. Sorry.” 

He looks slightly embarrassed but more than that he looks incredibly sad.  
Sid nods silently and before he knows he’s doing it he takes Alex’s hand. He’s not sure what he’s doing, trying to comfort in some small way, to offer support and he’s gratified when Alex squeezes back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sid tells him even though he is still as horny as hell. “It happens.”

Alex only huffs and looks over at Sid. Sid lies down beside him on his side with his head on the pillow. He takes Alex’s hand again. It’s something Sid never thought would come out of his mouth but he hears himself saying, “Do you want to talk about it?

Alex seems mildly surprised by his questions but only for a moment. “Yeah, okay,” he shrugs and then rolls towards Sid. Sid waits quietly, the two of them lying face to face, until the other man is ready to speak.

“My cousin, his little girl is sick. She got,” he frowns while he searches for the word in English, “blood cancer?”

Sid’s stomach sinks. He’s made enough appearances at children’s hospitals to know what he’s talking about.

“Leukemia?” he suggests.

“Yeah,” Alex agrees. “And she need......transplant. Everyone in family give blood. Friends too. But no match.”

He stops for a minute and Sid waits to see if he’ll continue before saying anything himself. He winds their fingers together and holds on. Alex lets out a long sigh.

“Cousin phone again tonight. Is why I come so late. Been waiting to hear latest news.” He’s unable to stifle a yawn and it emphasizes how late it is.

“And?” Sid asks him softly.

Alex shakes his head. “Nothing yet. Doctors say not to give up.”

Sid sees that Alex’s eyes are moist and his voice is rough when he speaks. Sid’s come to realize how important family is to Alex since he’s gotten to know him and wonders at the effort it has taken him to move half way around the world to pursue his dream. Sid wishes there were something he could do.

“Sorry,” he murmurs and watches as Alex shrugs.

“I get you up for no reason, Sid,” he tells him apologetically. “I should go. Let you sleep.”

“It’s late. You should stay here,” Sid suggests. “I don’t have to fly out until noon.”

“Sure?” Alex asks.

“Yeah. Of course,” Sid tells him and then watches as he thinks it over.

He’s more pleased than he’s willing to admit when Alex nods yes and settles down into the pillow. Sid pulls the covers up over the two of them and lies back, staring up at the ceiling. It feels strangely intimate to be lying in bed and not having sex. Alex wiggles over so that he’s right beside Sid and lays his head on Sid’s shoulder and throws an arm across his chest. He’s like a big puppy.

“Oh boy,” he chuckles tiredly, his voice a little lighter. “I finally get to cuddle with Sidney Crosby.”

“You’re such a jerk,” Sid laughs. He smiles as he says it and starts to gently run his fingers through Alex’s thick hair, soothing him to sleep. The other man sighs and relaxes into the touch. “Grandma used to do that,” he mumbles tiredly into Sid’s chest a few minutes later.

“Yeah?” Sid rasps. “Mine too.”

When Alex starts to snore gently Sid realizes he’s asleep. He keeps combing his fingers through Alex’s mop of hair long afterwards, staring into the darkness. Sid feels slightly disoriented. He’s just now realizing how much Alex means to him. It’s gone far beyond just sex. It dawns on Sid that maybe Alex is, or easily could be, his boyfriend. The idea no longer seems as foreign as it once did. In the deep dark night, alone with Alex in his arms, Sid kind of likes the idea.

It takes Sid forever to fall asleep. He lies there alone in the dark with his thoughts. His arm goes numb but he doesn’t want to move it and disturb the other man. Alex needs his rest. He’s going through a lot right now. It’s almost dawn when Sid finally falls asleep. When his wake up call comes at 8:00 Alex is already gone and instead of any feeling of relief Sid feels an immediate sense of loss.

 

***************************

 

Sid is snapped back to reality when the team flies home to Pittsburgh. He's late getting out of his room and they have to hold the bus. He knows he looks like shit when he stumbles onto the plane. He’s probably slept two hours total and looks like he’s been on a bender. Blysma immediately notices the bags under Sid's eyes and gives him a very dark look. Instead of playing video games with the guys on the flight Sid just falls asleep.

Blysma reads them the riot act the following morning at practise. But there are only so many things he can say. He’s starting to repeat himself. He has a special treat for Sid. The coach pulls him aside after the team meeting and lectures him on leading by example and how he thinks Sid should focus more on his game and not on partying. Sid is mortified that the coach thinks his behaviour is the case of the team’s lack of success. He promises to change.

He calls Alex that night and tells him what Blysma’s said. Alex understands. He knows what it’s like. They’re paid a lot of money to perform. They’re supposed to focus on hockey. But they discuss it and neither of them are prepared to stop seeing each other. They just figure they’ll make sure to get enough sleep when they do hook up and maybe just lay off the vodka too. Simple. And Sid will get his head back in the game.

It dawns on him that the team suspects what’s going on but what surprises him is that he’s not sure he cares anymore. He’s not going to sit and hold hands with Alex in the pub or anything but hey, if by chance the guys suspect Sid’s hitting that, then he’s not going to worry about it. It’s not like any of the guys would bring it up. It’s not like they’d say anything. Except that eventually they kind of do.

The Penguins are playing against the Flyers at home and Sid has never seen a dirtier bunch of assholes in his life. The ref isn’t calling anything. Sid escapes the game unscathed but it’s not for want of trying on the Flyers part. Part way through the second period some new guy takes a run at Sid and he ducks out of the way just in time. Tanger comes in and returns the favour, taking out the guy with a nice body check. The guy goes down like a sack of rocks. The ref doesn’t see it quite the same way and calls Letang for charging. 

Sid can’t believe it and he loses his shit. He ends up getting kicked out of the game for unsportsmanlike conduct. Talk about adding insult to injury. It’s not even a close game. The Flyers are ahead by two goals for fuck sake. There’s no real need to kill anyone tonight. The Penguins have pretty much surrendered. All they need is a white flag to make it official. 

The team joins Sid in the dressing room at the end of the second period. He’s still steamed about the call and about getting thrown out. He’s muttering insults about the ref. Flower sits down beside him and starts laughing and then gives him a slow clap until he winds down. The guys all join it. It’s nice that they find so much humour in the situation Sid fumes.

“I love it when you get all toppy with the ref,” Flower tells him, slapping him on the shin pad.

“How do you know he’s the top?” Jordie chimes in. “Ovie doesn’t seem like a bottom to me.” 

The room dissolves in laughter and Sid can feel his face getting red. They’re not terms he’s ever heard in the Penguins locker room before and Sid immediately realizes that everyone knows. He busies himself getting out of his gear so he can shower. Though he’s gradually getting his head around things there’s no way he’s going to acknowledge or talk about it with the team.

Geno watches Sid mournfully while he unlaces his skates and shakes his head. “Fuck, Sid. You showed those Flyers. There goes power play,” he tells him. Everyone laughs again. 

Sid knows that in hindsight he should have kept his mouth shut but there’s not much he can do about it now so he just shrugs and mutters, “Fucking assholes.”

Blysma isn’t thrilled with all the laughter and tells them to get their heads out of their asses and concentrate on the last period of the game. Everyone has the good grace to look sheepish and they all vow to play a good last period, slapping each other on the shoulders on the way out to psych themselves up. Sid watches the rest of the game from the dressing room.

He calls Alex that night and he’s still in a pissy mood. The other man doesn’t waste a second to start teasing him about his game misconduct.

“Bad mood today, Sidney,” he crows. “Not get along with ref?”

“Fucking asshole,” Sid starts again. His vocabulary gets quite limited when he’s pissed off.

“Yeah, bad call,” Alex agrees. “Forget now though. Is over.”

He’s right but Sid is still feeling hard done by and he’s having a difficult time letting it go. He continues to whine for a few more minutes until he realizes Alex isn’t even listening to him anymore. In fact he sounds like he’s talking to someone else. What the hell, Sid thinks. It’s eleven thirty at night.

“Where are you?” Sid asks him peevishly.

“In bed,” Ovechkin confirms. Sid can still hear him talking to someone in Russian. 

“Who are you talking to?” 

“Ghera,” Ovechkin tells him immediately. “She’s my sweetheart.” And then there he goes again talking away in Russian. 

Sid’s had just about enough. “Who the fuck is Ghera?” he demands.

Ovechkin starts to laugh. “Oh my god. Sid, you jealous?” he asks. He’s having fun with this.

Sid lets out a sigh. “Just tell me,” he says tightly.

“You don’t need to be jealous, Sidney. Ghera is my dog. Best dog in whole world.”

Sid shuts his eyes in relief, visions of an unknown Russian girl friend snuggled in Alex’s bed evaporating. “Oh.” Now he feels silly.

“Sid. Don’t need to be jealous. Promise.”

“Sorry. I guess I had a bad day,” Sid grumps.

“Is okay. Bad game. Bad mood. I understand.”

A moment later a text comes through with a photo attached. It’s a picture of Alex with a big grin and his arm wrapped lovingly around Ghera. She is indeed a large, rather shaggy German Shepherd that appears to be in Alex’s bed with him. 

Sid sighs into his phone. “I’m an asshole,” he admits.

Alex laughs again. “Yup,” he agrees. “But is okay. Tell you secret. I like it you’re jealous,” he admits. “So game next week? Penguins at Marriot again? I come over and give you blow job. Cheer you up.”

Sid can’t help but laugh at his cheerful offer. It can’t fully compensate for playing on a losing team but it does help a little. “Deal,” he tells Alex. “We’re flying in the night before the game from LA. Staying the night after too.”

“Oh boy, two nights,” Ovechkin tells him. “You be in great mood when I’m done.”

 

****************************

 

When they meet the next time Sid really does need cheering up. He’s taken a hit in the LA game that strained something in his lower back. The long flight east hasn’t helped it at all and by the time Sid gets to DC he’s almost completely ceased up. The trainers send him on his way with a bottle of muscle relaxants and tell him to take it easy. He’s a doubtful starter for the game the next night. 

The bus ride to the hotel is agony even though Sid’s taken as much muscle relaxant as he’s allowed. When he gets to his room he remembers he’s still got some vicodin so he pops a couple of them too. After that he can’t feel much of anything for a while so he stretches out on the bed and hopes his back feels better soon. He can’t imagine having sex in this state. 

When he wakes up his back feels a little better but not much. He pulls out his phone and texts Alex, telling him, “Staying in tonight. Back is fucked up.”

He gets a reply seconds later. “Prepare for Russian massage. Fix anything.”

Sid takes another vicodin and then decides on a long hot shower to see if it loosens up his muscles at all. He’s not sure about the hot water but the pain killers certainly take the edge off of things. Sid feels like he’s floating. He has to concentrate really hard to get his sweat pants back on.

Geno calls to see if he wants to go out for dinner with the team and Sid has a hard time communicating with him, well, harder than it normally is. His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton balls and he has to repeat himself several times.

Finally Geno asks him, “You high?” and Sid realizes he should maybe gauge the self medication a bit better.

He finally gets Geno to understand he’s staying in his room and ordering room service so that he can rest his back. Geno grudgingly agrees to the arrangement although he does insist that Sid phone him if he needs anything. He really is a good guy. Sid orders a burger from room service and turns on the sports channel. He drifts off again only to be woken by the guy bringing his food. 

It takes Sid a minute to figure out how to get up out of bed but he finally manages it by rolling on his side and pushing himself upright with one arm. He vaguely remembers his dad doing it that way one time after he’d had abdominal surgery. Sid shuffles to the door to let the guy in. He’s bent almost double despite the pain killers and probably looks like Quasimodo. He feels a hundred years old. 

Sid eats half of his burger but he’s not very hungry. He lies back down on the bed and stretches out his back some more, pulling his knees up to his chest and rotating his hips from side to side. It’s still really tight but the pain is finally easing off a little. He’s actually feeling relatively comfortable when Alex arrives. He watches foggily while he sets out his supplies. He’s got the usual condoms and lube but in addition he has a couple different kinds of massage oil.

Alex takes one look at Sid’s vague stare and asks him, “You take something?”

“Did Geno phone you?” Sid asks him owlishly.

Alex blinks and Sid immediately knows it’s a yes. The Russian gossip connection strikes again. Sid tells him, “Just some muscle relaxants the trainer gave me. And maybe a couple pain killers.” He knows he’s probably taken a little more than he should have.

“Okay,” Alex tells him. “But that’s enough. Now just massage. No more drugs.”

Sid’s taken enough to be amiable to this. He nods without protest and rolls over onto his stomach in anticipation. Alex locks the door and takes off his clothes before climbing on the bed. Sid lifts his hips up a little so Ovechkin can pull off his sweat pants. Alex gently sits astride Sid’s legs and pours massage oil into his hands to warm it.

“Okay, where is it sore,” He asks Sid.

“Down low,” Sid tells him, reaching back and pointing with one hand.

Alex runs a hand over the area in question and murmurs, “Relax.”

Sid finds that he’s tensed his body in anticipation but Alex’s touch is gentle. He starts slow, working his fingers in light circles over the tense muscles. He gradually increases the pressure as they begin to loosen slightly. Sid lets out a sigh and lets himself sink down into the mattress. It feels wonderful.

“Is that right place?” 

“Mmmmmm,” Sid answers. 

With all the meds he’s taken and with the soothing effects of the massage he feels absolutely boneless. He shuts his eyes and relaxes more as Alex works away at the muscles in his lower back. The other man starts humming and then singing softly in Russian. The gentleness of the moment overwhelms Sid and he blinks surprised tears from his eyes.

When Sid’s muscles are finally loose Alex leans down and kisses his shoulder. “Okay,” he tells Sid. “On to next part.”

“You know I’m not going to be able to fuck you,” Sid tells him with heartfelt regret. 

“Don’t worry, Sid. I work around it. We improvise.” He emphasizes his point by giving Sid a sharp nip on the side of his neck soothing it with his tongue. Alex slides off Sid, careful not to jar his back and bends to kiss his way down his back. Sid just relaxes and lets him do what he wants with him.

“Okay,” Sid whispers, stretching his naked body out, languidly enjoying the touch.

Sid realizes something he loves about being with a man. It’s the fact that he isn’t expected to always take control, be the strong one, the initiator… Not that it was always like that with women but there was a certain pattern. He had to be the man. Now he isn’t the only one. The roles are different; equal, more based on the moment than any pre-determined expectations. Now Alex can lead.

Sid smiles into his pillow as Alex runs his hands down his shoulders and back, over his sides and the curve of his ass. Alex pauses to put more oil on his hands and gives Sid a kiss before running a finger down between his cheeks. Sid tries not to flinch as he feels a finger tip run through the crease of his buttocks, where it starts circling. It takes a few seconds before the touch is no longer as intrusive and he can relax again. 

Sid realizes the light feathery touch over sensitive skin is making his cock hard. He’s drugged and loose enough that he just lets go. He spreads his legs a little more in silent permission to continue. Alex squeezes more massage oil over Sid’s ass and dips in further with his fingertip. When his finger turns to firmer, circling strokes all Sid can do is whimper and recognize how good it feels. 

Alex isn’t finished with him yet though. He trails his tongue languidly down Sid’s back, tasting him, dropping kisses along the way before continuing further down. Down to kiss his lower back, the start of his crease, further down...... 

Sid shudders and tries to push himself up when he realizes what’s happening. He tries to slide up the bed, to avoid the contact he realizes is coming next. It’s too much, Alex shouldn’t be doing this, couldn’t actually want to do....”No, he whispers, trying to squirm away, but he’s held down by a firm hand.

“No, Sid. Just let me,” Alex tells him as he licks and kisses further down. “If you don’t like after I do it then you say” he leaves it at that before he dips lower. Sid can’t believe how it feels.

He slumps down in defeat and buries his face in the pillow. He closes his eyes and consciously tries to focus on what Alex’s mouth is doing. The faint licks on the sides of his entrance, over it, a finger drawing lines along the cleft, a tongue darting in ever so lightly, then a little more, opening him, teasing him, filling him... helped by massaging fingers but never enough to satisfy the yearning building within. He bites into the pillow, afraid of the sounds he might make, that he’ll be too loud. 

Sid is embarrassed by how much this turns him on. It shouldn’t; it goes against all standards but Sid realizes there’s no way he wants Alex to stop. He wants to lie here forever, squirming and biting the pillow because they’re alone and it’s theirs. It’s their secret. No one will ever know how hard this makes him, no one but Alex. Alex must be his boyfriend; he has to be because this whole thing is so private, so insanely personal that it’s something only a boyfriend should see.

Finally Sid groans and rolls over so that his cock is free. He pulls Alex down beside him on the bed. His hands trace the broad chest, the muscled arms, he kisses the stubble roughened throat. He almost likes touching Alex more than he likes being touched by him. Almost. He bites gently at Alex’s lower lip and runs a hand around his neck, caressing it lightly. 

“Oh fuck,” Sid moans. “I want you so much.”

He leaves it at that though, intentionally vague. He’s not sure that he ever wants to be fucked. It seems like too much. It’s a line not easy to cross. He can’t. But he’s so horny he doesn’t know what else to do. Alex seems to have an idea though. He kisses Sid again and reaches for the lube. He turns Sid on his side and slips behind him, gathering him in so he’s held gently against his chest.

Sid can feel Alex’s cock nudging against the back of his thighs and he can’t help but panic slightly at the exposed position he’s in. He involuntarily tenses up and gets a warning twinge of pain from his lower back in response. The discomfort makes him gasp. 

Alex pulls him in closer and soothes, “Shhhhhhh, relax, Sid. Is okay. Won’t do anything you don’t want. Don’t worry.”

He kisses Sid’s shoulder reassuringly and he feels himself relax again. Sid believes him. There is something liberating in just trusting in someone else and putting yourself in their hands. He presses back, moulds himself into Alex’s broad chest and sighs when the other man begins to suck softly on the tender skin at the side of his neck.

Alex pauses to cover his cock with lube and then slides it between Sid’s legs. It’s cold for a second against Sid’s skin, cool and slippery, but it warms. Alex begins to thrust gently, sliding his cock between Sid’s thighs. Sid gets what Alex is doing and presses his legs together more firmly, tightening them around his cock, increasing the sensation. 

Alex’s breath quickens. His breathing demonstrates a sense of urgency but the way he cradles Sid in his arms is exquisitely gentle, as if he’s something so delicate that he may break at any moment. It’s something Sid would not have know Alex’s powerful body was capable off. He relaxes and pulls his head around so that he can find Alex’s lips for a nibbling kiss. Other than that he leaves himself completely in Alex’s hands, letting him do everything. 

Alex’s arm is wrapped around Sid’s chest, he presses his lips to Sid’s neck and he grunts softly as his cock slides back and forth. It’s rubbing against Sid’s perineum too, nudging at his prostate from the outside, and it feels really good. Alex reaches around with one hand and grasps Sid’s cock, squeezing it while he rocks. It’s so intense Sid can’t help but arch back and he gets another warning twinge from his muscles.

Alex thrusts over and over and Sid finds himself grunting in pleasure too. The thrusts, though still gentle, increase in pace and urgency as Alex gets close. His arms tighten around Sid when he comes with a groan. He continues to stroke Sid’s cock until he comes in his hand moments later.   
Sid carefully rolls over so that he’s facing Alex again. His face is covered with a sheen of sweat and his hair is in disarray and he smiles crookedly at Sid. Sid smiles back. He’s exhausted. The back pain, the drugs and the sex have all caught up with him. He doesn’t think he can possibly move from where he is. Ignoring the stickiness between his legs and on his stomach and lays his head down on Alex’s chest.  
"Stay," Sid says, gripping Alex’s wrist.

"I’m not going anywhere," the other man promises.

 

*********************************

 

Sid’s back is better the next morning, but not good enough to play hockey. Alex gets up early and showers, stopping to kiss Sid gently on the forehead before he leaves. Sid shows up for the warm up skate but the trainers take one look at him and know he’s not going to be playing. He gets sent back to the hotel for the day on bed rest.

He sleeps all day and then finally orders something to eat before the game. He figures he’ll watch it on TV. The idea feels decadent but Sid has been breaking new ground lately. He takes some more muscle relaxants and pain pills and watches the game in a bit of a fog. As usual the Penguins lose but they do make a creditable game of it. They’re probably better off without Sid the way he’s been playing lately. 

A few hours later Geno knocks on the door. He’s worried about Sid sitting around the room by himself for so long and insists he come down to the pub with the team for one drink. Sid’s still feeling kind euphoric from the drugs so he agrees. It seems a bit more ill advised when Sid realizes he barely has the coordination to walk. It all seems so much easier lying in bed. 

Geno, buddy that he is, helps navigate Sid down to the lounge and parks him in a booth with Gordie and Letang. They greet him pleasantly but then go back to their conversation when they realize that no intelligent conversation is forthcoming. It reminds Sid a lot of the time that he went out and hooked up with Alex for the first time. Yeah, he’s that wasted.

Alex and the Caps show up and he immediately takes over Sid’s care. He takes one look at Sid’s beer and slides it out of reach. Sid doesn’t put up much of a fight. He’s got enough on board already. Instead he just leans in against Alex and tries to follow what’s going on around the table. When he starts to nod off Alex gives him a gentle shake and tells him, “Okay, Sid. Is bed time.”

Sid nods agreeably and Alex throws his arm over his shoulder and helps him up, walking him carefully through the bar and back up to his room. Sid hangs from him limply all the way and Alex has to prop him against the wall while he unlocks Sid’s door. He’s pressed tight against Sid, holding him in place and Sid can’t resist kissing him. Alex responds immediately, the door forgotten, until they are interrupted by someone coming out of the room next door.

Sid looks over and sees that it’s Kevin Letang dressed in sweats and holding his ice bucket, obviously heading down the hall to the ice machine. He takes one look at Sid hanging off Alex, lips swollen and red from kissing, both of them breathless and just shakes his head and then goes about his business. Sid watches him go, thinking he should probably say something, something lame like ”It’s not what it looks like” but then realizes he doesn’t really care enough to bother. Maybe it’s just the drugs.

Alex finally gets the door unlocked and gathers Sid up from where he’s got him pinned with his hip and half carries him into his room. Alex gently lies Sid down on his bed and undresses him, mindful of his back as he tugs his jeans down from his hips. Sid watches while Alex undresses as well and then slides under the covers with him. 

“Thank you,” Sid murmurs into Alex’s chest.

“Is okay, Sidney,” Alex tells him as he gathers him into his arms and gives him a chaste kiss on the forehead.

As he feels himself drifting down into sleep Sid wonders if Tanger is going to tell the rest of the team what he saw. He mentally prepares himself for the comments and ribbing that may come. He’s sure someone will say something in the locker room before long but no one ever does.

 

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

The last few weeks of Sid’s season end with a whimper. Mario gets wind of his appearance in the hotel lounge after the game with drugs on board. He calls Sid in for a meeting and gives him a lecture about the dangers of substance abuse. Sid assures him there’s nothing to worry about. He promises not to do it again. 

He has to admit that going out in that condition wasn’t his best idea ever. Telling Mario that Geno insisted he come sounds weak even to Sid, especially when Mario rolls his eyes at the notion that Sid’s letting Malkin do his thinking for him. No one is used to Sid behaving so irresponsibly and they don’t know what to make of it.

Sid promises Mario he’ll set a better example but his back is still bothering his so he can’t lead on the ice. He’s on game to game status. He’s not the only one missing from the team. Several others have nagging injuries and a couple have had to miss games. When Geno takes a slap shot above the glove that breaks his wrist and has to miss the rest of the season it’s the last straw. 

The remnants of the team try to rally during the last few games but it’s too little too late. They’re missing too many key personnel and there’s too much ground to make up. The Penguins finish out of the playoffs for the first time in years. Sid’s not used to his season ending in April. He’s got too much time on his hands and finds himself at loose ends.

The Capitals finish the season like they started, at the top of the standings. They have the best record in the league and win the Presidents’ Trophy. They are the odds on favourite to win the Stanley Cup. Sid watches as they steamroll over Tampa Bay in the opening round in four games. Alex scores six goals and assists on seven more. After the series Sid calls him. He wants to congratulate him but even more he misses him.....a lot.

To Sid’s relief Alex answers immediately with a cheerful, “Hey, Sid!” 

He wasn’t sure if the Caps would be back to DC but they must have flown home immediately after the last game. It’s pretty late but Sid figures Alex is like himself, too keyed up after a big win to sleep. He’s banked that the other man will still be up. Sid smiles when he hears the familiar voice.

Alex sounds tired but jubilant. “Great game,” Sid tells him. “You guys were amazing.” He means every word of it. 

The Caps are playing a kind of fast, freewheeling style of hockey Sid’s always admired. They have that enviable combination of wily veterans and madly talented newcomers that make them a force to be reckoned with. The Caps have the swagger of a winning team and the boost in confidence has elevating their play even more. They’ve had some canny draft picks over the last few years and Alex is at the top of his game. More than that, he seems to have grown into the leadership role he was meant for. 

“Thanks, Sid,” Alex tells him. “Too bad you’re done. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Sid tells him even though it really isn’t. But he doesn’t want to whine about it and bring down the other man. “So what are you up too?”

Alex laughs. “Get rest of night off. Then practise, practise, practise. Have few days before next series.”

Sid nods. He’s been following along. He knows the Caps will be playing the winner of the LA – Colorado series which is tied at 2 – 2. “So who do you think you’ll be playing?”

“Don’t know. Doesn’t matter. We’ll be ready.” he tells Sid. Sid knows he’s probably right.

After the obligatory pleasantries Sid gets down to what’s really on his mind. “Hey, I was wondering if maybe we could, you know, meet up?”

There’s a long pause and then a sign. “I don’t know, Sid. Where you thinking?”

“I could drive down there,” Sid suggests. “Come to your place.”

This suggestion actually makes Alex laugh. “Mom and Dad here, Sid.”

“Yeah. Maybe not,” Sid agrees. He’s not sure he wants to face the Ovechkin’s again nor try to explain a conjugal visit. “Or, you know, I could get a hotel?”

“Can’t do it, Sid. Coach says everyone stay in. Is like house arrest until we go on road. Practise only.”

Sid’s getting frustrated. “You’ve got to be kidding? Who’s going to know? Or you could come here?”

Alex sounds sorry when he tells Sid, “Mom know. Dad know. I know. Sorry, Sid. This is serious business. I want cup real bad. Is my dream. Like to see you but I think maybe I do what I’m told. For team.”

Sid shuts his eyes. He knows Alex is right. If he were in that position he’d do the same thing. “Okay,” he tells him. “Just make sure you win the damn thing as fast as you can.”

“Promise,” Alex laughs. “So, what you gonna do, Sid? Go back home?”

“Yeah,” Sid tells him. “In a week or two maybe. Got a few things to take care of in Pittsburgh before I leave.”

Sid does have a few meetings booked but he doesn’t have a lot on, especially since his most pressing agenda item, getting laid, seems to be on hold for the time being. “I’ll probably watch the playoffs with the guys.”

“Make sure to cheer for Caps,” Alex laughs.

“Of course,” Sid smiles at him. “Hey, what are you doing when you get finished?”

“Um, usually stay around until after awards banquet and the go to Russia. Usual thing. Why?”

Sid swallows nervously. He’s feeling like he’s in uncharted territory here. “I was just wondering, you know, if you’d want to come up to Nova Scotia for a week or so? Usually some of the guys come up, Jordie, Tanger, um yeah....We go fishing, play golf, do stuff like that......” he trails off.

As he says it Sid is already doubting Alex will be interested. He spends most of the year in North America, away from his friends and family. He probably can’t wait to go home to Russia as soon as he can.

Alex surprises him. “Yeah. Sound like fun, Sid.” He sounds like he’s smiling. “When you thinking?”

“Um, maybe right after the awards?” Sid suggests. There’s no point in going too early. The weather doesn’t usually get good until the end of June.

“Yeah, well I haven’t booked flight yet so yeah,” Alex tells him. “We can talk after playoffs over?”

“Yeah,” Sid agrees. He doesn’t want to jinx the Caps by making plans beyond the playoff or even contemplating that they won’t be in the finals. “You’re right. You finish the season and then we’ll make some plans. Okay?”

“Thanks, Sid,” Alex tells him. The silence stretches on for a moment and then Alex coughs. “And Sid, I miss you too?”

Sid grins stupidly at his phone. It’s not the same as being able to see Alex but talking to him helps a little bit. And at least he’s got something to look forward to.

“I guess I better let you go. It must be almost past curfew,” Sid kids. He looks at his watch. It’s getting really late.

“What is curfew?”

“You know, bed check?” Sid explains.

“Oh, yeah, haha,” Alex chuckles. “Like being back at Moscow Dynamo. Lights out.” Sid can hear him yawning while he talks.

“Well, good luck in the next series,” Sid tells him.

“Thanks, Sid,” Alex tells him. 

 

*************************

 

Sid, Tanger and Jordie go out to a neighbourhood pub to watch the first couple Caps – Avalanche games. It’s more fun to watch with other hockey fans. Sid dresses down in a Steelers jersey and baseball cap and they grab a corner booth. No one recognizes them, or if they do, no one says anything. Most Penguins fans are pretty laid back. They are polite and though they’ll sometimes say hi, they aren’t usually a pain. 

The games are decent but Colorado is never in it. The Caps beat them 4 – 2 and then even more convincingly, 6 – 2. Alex gets another goal but where he’s really excelling is in setting up his teammates. He gets five assists in the second game. The young guys are stepping up their game and Semin scores a couple goals as well. The Avalanche’s coach doesn’t know who to match his checking line out with.

The crowd is festive despite the Penguins not being in the playoffs. They’re knowledgeable hockey fans, most of them having followed the Penguins for years. They like what they see in the Washington Capitals and approve of their fire-wagon hockey style. There aren’t a lot of Colorado fans in the bar. Everyone’s cheering for the Caps. Sid joins right in.

Jordie and Tanger are busy for the third game so Sid watches it on his own. It’s not nearly as fun and he contemplates walking down to the pub but then decides that would be kind of......lame. He says in and instead calls his Dad on Skype and the two of them watch together. Sid drinks a few beers while they watch Alex get another hat trick. The poor Avalanche eventually can’t keep him contained. It’s not as fun as watching the game with the guys but it does in a pinch.

Sid has the guys over for game four. Tanger is there, along with Jordie and Flower. Geno comes over after the first period is finished. He’s had to do an appearance for one of his charities. They order pizza and Sid has made sure he has lots of beer. The Caps come out flat and are quickly down by two. They never seem to get back on track and although Semin gets one back in the second the Colorado goalie plays a great game and they can never get another one.Everyone is kind of bummed out but they know the Caps will take the series with the next game.

Sid wants them to come back for game five but unfortunately everyone has plans already for Saturday night. Or, more likely, their spouses do. The guys would be fine with pizza and beer but the wives have put up with a long hockey season and they want their husbands back. Sid finds himself on his own for the day.

He texts Alex to wish him luck but gets no reply. Sid figures he’s with the team at morning skate but it still leaves him feeling a little down. He calls Taylor but she doesn’t answer. He tries a couple of his buddies with no luck before he tosses his phone down in irritation. For the first time in a long while he can feel an anxiety attack coming on. He finds himself pacing around the condo, putting on laundry, tidying, anything to distract himself from the free floating anxiousness he can feel starting to overwhelm him.

It’s been so long that Sid doesn’t have any Ativan around to take so he tries the breathing exercises his therapist taught him to combat the attacks years ago. He sits on the couch and shuts his eyes, willing himself to relax. It doesn’t help so he phones home and talks to his mom. She recognizes the tight, clipped tone in his voice immediately.

“Sidney, honey. Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’ve been better,” he admits, leaning back into the couch. He can feel his heart racing in his chest even though he’s forcing himself to breath slowly and deeply. “Shit, I haven’t had one of these in years.”

“I know. You’ve been doing so much better,” his mom soothes. “Are you doing your breathing?”

“Yeah,” Sid tells her. “I’m trying. It’s not helping yet though. And I don’t have anything to take.” He tries not to sound panicky when he tells her.

“You’ll be okay,” she assures him. “It’ll pass.”

Sid lets out a deep breath and shuts his eyes again. He knows this too. It just doesn’t help when he’s in the middle of one. They make him feel like he’s going to have to crawl out of his skin, that his mind is racing a million miles an hour.

He’d had a lot of these as a child and young teen; just another thing that made him a little odd and set him apart from the rest of the kids. As Sid got older he got better at managing them and they gradually decreased in frequency. But there was still the odd time when some little thing would set him off and he would be right back in the middle of it, feeling powerless and weak and out of control. He hated it. The attacks made him fell like the same frightened little boy, trying to be brave, crying in bed alone, too stubborn to wake his mom and tell her.

“So, what have you been up to?” his mom asks, switching to a new tactic, distraction. “Have you been watching the hockey? Who do you think will win?”

She knows damn well he’s been watching but Sid smiles at his mom’s attempt to make him think about something else.

“The Caps,” he tells her. “I think they’re going to do it this year.”

“Really?” his mom asks. “Not Vancouver again?”

“Nope. The Caps are really strong,” he assures her. They chat a bit more about the teams and who Sid thinks will win the awards this year. Slowly he can feel the anxiety ebbing off slightly, the shear panic not nearly so pronounced. He takes two or three more long breaths and almost sighs in relief. He realizes he’s been grinding his teeth since it started.

Trina notices he calming but doesn’t mention it. She keeps talking; asking him about his plans for the week, when he’s going to come home, what he wants to do over the summer; anything to focus him on positive things and clear his mind. Sid appreciates her effort.

When he feels like it’s completely passed he tells her, “Thanks mom.”

“Of course honey. You can phone me any time. You know that.”

“Yeah, I know. What’s dad doing? Is he going to watch the game?” Sid asks.

“He’s gone down to the cabin for the weekend to fix a few things before the summer. You could call him there?”

“No, it’s okay,” Sid tells her. He doesn’t need to watch the game with his dad. He’s a big boy. He can watch by himself.

“Well, I’ll tell him you called, Sidney,” she assures him.

“Okay, thanks mom,” Sid says. “Oh, and mom, can you maybe not tell him about this thing I had. Okay?”

“Alright dear. But Sidney, it’s not something you should feel bad about, you know that don’t you? It doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with you. You remember what Dr. McCollister said? It’s something that a lot of people deal with."

Sidney can’t help but sigh. He’s heard this lecture before. “I know mom.”

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed by it. It’s not like your father will think any less of you.”

“I know,” Sid tells her, trying not to be short. “I just don’t want him to worry.”

That’s part of it. They’d all been optimistic that he’d gotten past this issue but obviously not yet. If he didn’t watch it his mom would be telling him he should go back to the psychologist he’d gone to when he was a teenager. And he really didn’t want to do that.

“Alright, Sidney. So you’re okay now?” she asks.

“Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“I should go then,” Trina tells him. “I’m going out with the girls to the casino tonight and Jane will be picking me up soon. You don’t need anything else?”

“No, I’m good, mom,” Sid tells her. “I should go too. I want to go for a run before the game starts.”

“Be careful of your back,” Trina warns.

“I will, mom,” Sid smiles. “I saw the trainer this morning and he told me to try it. I’ll take it easy.”

They say their goodbyes and then Sid puts on his shorts and runners. He warms up and does some stretches, then does a steady 45 minutes, letting the exercise loosen his muscles and take away the last of the tension. It’s a cool day but he’s soaked in sweat when he gets home. He grabs a quick shower and pulls on a pair of sweat pants before he turns on the TV.

Sid discovers he’s out of beer so he cracks open a bottle of duty free vodka he’s got kicking around and pours himself a stiff vodka and cranberry juice. He’s still feeling a bit pitiful having to watch the game on his own. Sid puts up his feet and takes a sip while the familiar Hockey Night In Canada music starts up. He’s thirst so the first drink goes down fast and he makes another. By the third he’s not feeling so sorry for himself.

He’s watching the first period when the phone rings. Sid jumps up immediately to get it, thinking it’s Alex returning his call, which would be odd seeing as he’s on the ice. Sid decides he should slow down on the vodka. He gets a wave of disappointment when he sees it’s Christine calling. Unfortunately he’s already accepted the call so he’s stuck.

He tries to sound cheerful when he greets her. Christine has just got back to town and is wondering if Sid is interested in hooking up tonight. He could really care less about having sex with her but the condo still seems kind of lonely and the thought of having some company kind of appeals. He’s had just enough vodka to invite her over and she accepts immediately.

His back gives a twinge when he puts down his phone so he pops a couple muscle relaxants and a vicodin for good measure. He pours one more drink and sits back to watch the game as the familiar warm wave of euphoria rolls over him.

Christine arrives half an hour later and helps herself to some vodka. When she sees the Crosby pharmacopeia she wants in. Sid reluctantly gives her one of his vicodin and they settle in to watch the game. Sid offers to order Chinese but Christine tells him she’s already eaten. She is already giving him a hand job before the second period is over. She’s not really all that interested in hockey.

The Caps win the fifth game convincingly and take the series. Sid is elated at the outcome. Christine suggests they take the rest of the vodka and hit the bedroom and without really thinking about it Sid agrees. His cock thinks it’s a good idea anyway. They are both pretty wasted and have to help each other get up the stairs. They strip off their clothes and get down to the business at hand.

Sid knows what he wants and he uses all his new skills to induce Christine to let him fuck her in the ass. The half bottle of vodka and the vicodin probably don’t hurt but she’s won over. She even appears to enjoy most of it. For Sid it’s okay. There’s the same familiar tightness but the size is all wrong. Christine is too small, too passive, not nearly demanding enough. She just lies there and even though it actually feels pretty good it takes Sid a hell of a long time to come. When he’s done Christine is already asleep.

Sid passes out shortly afterwards. He wakes up in the middle of the night with Christine pressed against him. At first he doesn’t know where he is and it takes a minute to remember why Christine is there at all. He falls back asleep and doesn’t wake up until 10:00 the next morning. He’s not exactly thrilled to find she’s still there. Usually he’ll go to her place and then take off first thing in the morning before she wakes up. He’s not sure what to do.

He carefully crawls out of bed so he doesn’t wake her up and heads for the bathroom. He can’t get in the shower fast enough. He’s dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt, making coffee when she comes down wrapped in a sheet from his bed. In the cold light of day Christine looks less than attractive. Her hair is all over and she’s got mascara racooning around her eyes. Her usual flawlessly applied make up is a little less than that. When she walks up to Sid and gives him a quick peck on the cheek it’s all he can do not to flinch.

“Hey, baby,” she smiles. “Do you have plans today?”

“Um, yeah,” Sid tells her immediately, even though he’s not thought of them yet. “I’ve got to go for a run and then the gym. Got to get changed soon actually,” he finishes , pointedly looking at his watch.

Christine pouts a little but then shrugs. Sid has to like that about her. She’s always been a good sport.

“There’s coffee if you want some,” he tells her, trying to smooth things over a little.

“Thanks, babe,” she answers, pouring herself a cup. “Well, I guess I’ll have a shower then and get going. That was fun though.”

She gives him another quick kiss and this time he manages to respond a little bit. At least he rests his hand on her shoulder gives her a bit of a smile.

“Yeah, good to see you Christine,” he tells her. “Look, I’m going out for a run. Just make sure the door is locked when you go.”

“Sure thing. Give me a call if you’ve got some more free time. I’m in town for a couple more weeks,” she tells him.

Sid nods agreeably but he’s got no plans to see her again. He’s feeling pretty shitty about the whole thing. He doesn’t know why he did it at all. It seemed like a good idea the night before but now...not so much. The sex was alright but he’s not sure why he feels so empty.

When Christine calls him a couple days later he doesn’t answer the phone. When she calls again the next day Sid decides that maybe he’ll fly home for a week or two and see his parents. They’re a little surprised by the impromptu visit but always glad to see him. He’s glad to see them too. He’s still a bit down from the season ending so soon and feeling out of sorts. It’s good to be home.

Sid and his dad settle in to watch the Stanley Cup finals together. The Caps are playing the Vancouver Canucks, the team with the second best record after the Capitals. The Canucks are the reigning Stanley Cup champions and they’d like to repeat. The two teams have only met once during the season, a hard fought game early in the season that the Caps managed to win by a goal. The odds makers are favouring the Caps slightly but everyone is expecting a close series.

Sid’s dad favours the Canucks which Sid is quietly but fervidly cheering for the Caps. He’s reluctant to say much to his parents. He’s never been a Caps fan and he’s worried the switch will be so out of character they will see right through him. Sid knows his dad dislikes Ovechkin; he’s made no secret of it over the years. Not that he knows the guy or anything; it’s more that Alex has been Sid’s rival for so long.

The Canucks win the first two games and surprise a lot of people, including the Caps. Loungo shuts them out in the first game and the Canucks get a hard fought overtime win in the second. The games are characterized by nonstop action, end to end rushes, and brilliant goaltending.

In the third game the Canucks come out determined to win again. They quickly go up by two goals and in frustration the Caps take a bad penalty. Sid can see the Caps confidence slipping as they run into such determined opposition. When Vancouver scores on the power play Sid isn’t surprised. He’s seen the same thing happen with the Penguins far too often.

And then suddenly something changes. Alex Ovechkin comes back out on the ice and through sheer force of willpower steals the puck from Vancouver and races in on the net with a Canucks defence man hanging off of him. He manages to score despite being hauled to the ice. Five minutes later he strikes again, setting up Backy for a breakaway. The Canucks start to scramble and slowly the tide is turned. Semin scores on a power play when Vancouver takes a holding penalty and the game is even.

It’s still tied half way through the third but the Caps have the momentum back and they keep pushing. If Luongo wasn’t playing so well the Caps would be ahead by four goals. Finally, with only a couple minutes left in the game Alex gets the puck again and races in with Backy, fakes a shot and then passes across the crease to Backstrom who fires it into the open net. Sid can’t help but grin at the outcome. He’s been sitting there like a bag of nerves all game.

His dad gives him a sour look when it’s over and grouses, “Since when have you been a Caps fan?”

Sid shrugs. “Come on, Dad. You have to admit it they played a hell of a game.”

“Yup,” his dad agrees. “It was a hell of a game. I think the Canucks will get them in the next one. Too much talent on that team to be shut down much longer. The Caps got some lucky bounces.”

Sid just keeps quiet. He’s been watching Caps games all year and he knows what they can do. He’s seen them use their talent on the Penguins to devastating effect. He helps his dad paint the fence for a couple days while the teams are on a couple travel days. It’s unseasonably warm and dry in Nova Scotia this spring.

Game four starts the same way as the last. The Sedin’s come out like gangbusters and score a goal at the three minute mark. Two minutes later Vancouver is on the power play after a questionable boarding call on Backstrom. The Canucks get another one. The crowd goes wild. They believe the Canucks are making a comeback.

And then the Caps just pick it up a notch. Alex goes out on the ice and just starts back-checking like a mother fucker, going into the corners like it’s his life’s work. He forces Bieksa to cough up the puck and gets it out to Sumin at center ice. It’s a long, risky pass but right on the money. Sasha takes it in and scores a beauty over Luongo’s right shoulder.

It lifts the Caps up. They increase the tempo more; beating the Canucks to the puck, making their own chances, always pushing. Alex doesn’t hit everyone but he’s playing his familiar game and the Vancouver defence is starting to look over their shoulders when they go into the corners instead of concentrating on the puck. Sid’s never seen Alex play so well or skate so fast. He seems like he’s always on the ice. He’s on the power play and when the Caps get another penalty he’s out killing the penalty as well. 

And just like the flow of the game changes something happens to Sid’s dad too. He starts to cheer for the Capitals. Sid notices for the first time while they are watching Alex rag the puck, skating around and through the Canucks while they vainly try to get the puck away from him so they can fucking try to get a power play goal, thank you very much. It’s just not happening. 

Sid’s dad looks up when Alex finishes his shift and shakes his head in wonder. “I never thought I’d ever say this Sid, but that guy is fucking amazing. He’s gotten better, hasn’t he?”

Sid only nods. He’s realizing that too. Where Alex has always had the strength and the raw talent, now he’s got a wealth of NHL experience too. He’s better, fitter, but he’s also gotten a hell of a lot smarter. He’s learned to choose his moments. He knows when a goal or a big hit can change the momentum of the game and he’s still got the ability to deliver. 

Sid can’t wait for game five. Troy and Trina are both there for this one. Sid stops and buys a case of beer on the way home from the gym. The three of them sit and eat take out Chinese while the national anthems are being sung. The Vancouver fans are going crazy. They’re still hoping for a second Cup. 

Sid is surprised at how many Caps jerseys there are in the crowd at Rogers arena. Both teams have huge followings and word is that this game is pulling in some of the highest ratings hockey has ever seen. It’s huge; this series has been picked up all over the U.S. Ratings are through the roof.

The first ten minutes of the game are incredibly fast, both sides getting good shots on net, but are being thwarted by the goaltenders. There are no penalties and very few whistles. Suddenly the Canucks get a break. The puck hops over the stick of the Caps rookie Kuznetsov and Daniel Sudin is away on a breakaway. Mike Green and Kuznetsov both try to catch him but come up short. Score 1 – 0 for Vancouver. 

Yevgeni Kuznetsov is devastated and Sid feels for the kid. It’s just a bad bounce. That’s all. It can happen to anyone, which doesn’t make it any easier when it’s you and it’s happened in the middle of a playoff game. It’s the kind of incident that can inspire a team or knock the wind out of a lesser one. The cameras follow the young player to the bench and he looks like he could cry. 

Alex sits beside him and taps him on the arm by way of encouragement. The kids doesn’t even look up from where he’s staring at the floor. Sid sees Alex lean in, wrap his arm around the rookie and say something to him as the camera pans closer. He talks at length and Kuznetsov nods at what Alex Ovechkin says to him. When he looks up he seems slightly less upset. Sid feels a twinge of jealousy at the exchange although he knows Kuznetsov is decidedly straight.

Their line goes back on the ice a minute later and instead of avoiding Kuznetsov in case he’s shaken by the bad play, Alex gives him a crisp pass and sends him up the ice. Kuznetsov gets around the defence man and takes a shot which is stopped by Luongo. He doesn’t quit though, jumping on the rebound as he goes past the net and makes a blind pass back in front of the net, right on to Alex’s waiting stick. Loungo is down and doesn’t have a chance. Tie game. The kid comes off the ice looking like the weight of the world has been lifted from his shoulders.

Sid is stunned when his dad lets out a hoot at Alex’s goal. Apparently he’s switched teams and is now cheering for the Caps. Trina looks pretty happy too and Sid beams at both of them. He’s thrilled himself.

“That was a damn fine play,” Troy tells Sid. “Good for him.”

Ten minutes later it’s Kuznetsov’s turn to score on a slap shot from the faceoff circle, set up by Backstrom. Alex is the first over to congratulate the rookie while Mike Green scoops the puck out of the net to give the kid. It’s his first playoff goal and it couldn’t come at a better time. The period ends without any more scoring.

Sid can’t remember ever watching a better game; certainly none of the ones he’s been involved in the last few years. He also can’t believe how much of the game Alex has been on the ice. Neither can his dad. He shakes his head in disbelief when Sid comes back with another beer for everyone.

“That guy is a machine. He must have played half the period.”

“He’s got a new trainer this year,” Sid volunteers. “Talked him into losing 15 pounds. Said he didn’t need that much bulk. Alex thinks it’s made him faster. Better acceleration, you know.”

“I can believe that,” Troy nods thoughtfully. “I never really cared for his grandstanding in the past, as you know, Sid. But now I’m starting to.....” he leaves the rest unfinished.

Sid nods. “Yeah, he’s really good.”

Sid’s mom gives him a puzzled look. “I didn’t know you knew him, Sidney?”

“Um, yeah,” he tells her. “He’s a good friend of Geno’s. We hang out sometimes when the teams get together.”

Troy is surprised at that. “I thought your teams didn’t get along? You’ve had some pretty nasty games.”

Sid shrugs. It had been the case in the past but not so much now. Off the ice the two teams are on good terms. “The Russians hang out a lot,” he explains. 

“Sometimes both teams get together. Mike Green is a good guy. So is Backstrom,” Sid tells them.

“What about you and Ovechkin,” Troy asks. “The media’s always built up the rivalry between you two.”

Sid feels his face begin to flush. “We get along fine.”

“What’s he like?” Trina asks curiously.

“I don’t know, mom,” Sid tells her. “Nice, I guess. Fun. But serious about hockey.”

He can’t think of much else he wants to say. “He has his parents living with him,” he finally tells her.

“Really? No wife or girlfriend?” she asks.

“No, not yet. He’s concentrating on hockey, like me.”

Sid thinks for one brief second that maybe he should tell his mom and dad what’s going on with Alex. That he should face facts and admit how he feels about the guy and how he hopes he never does find a girlfriend. If there ever was a good time it would be right now. But Sid just can’t bring himself to do it. The words stick in his throat. And then his dad belches and tells him he needs to go to the can and the moment is lost.

They watch Coach’s Corner while Don Cherry dissects the play of both teams over the last couple games. Sid has to agree with most of it even though the guy is an idiot. Sid’s surprised that he’s actually complimentary towards the Europeans. He doesn’t have much choice; they’ve been dominating the play for both teams. 

The second and third periods belongs to the goal tenders. Both teams play superbly, generate numerous scoring chances, but the goalies play even better. The Caps get an empty net goal and the game ends with a 3 – 1 score. Alex is the first star for the third time in the series follow by the two goaltenders. The teams head back to Washington for the next game. 

Sid’s parents are both there again for game six. It reminds him of his childhood, sitting in the same living room week after week watching Hockey Night in Canada on Saturday night. Sid’s always been crazy about hockey. He used to sit in this same room and dream about making the NHL one day and playing for the Stanley Cup. It’s the same dream a lot of Canadian kids have had.

It’s something Russian kids dream about too and the Crosby’s are watching a dream come true tonight. The Caps own the last game. They come out dominating and score the first and then second goals in front of their adoring crowd. The Canucks struggle back and score one but they don’t have the same spark they had in the previous games. The result of the game is never in doubt. The Washington Capitals win their first Stanley Cup on home ice.

It’s while he’s watching Alex skate around the rink with the cup held high, followed closely by his team mates, that Sid realizes he has tears running down his face. He brushes them away sheepishly and is relieved when neither of his parents comment. They are both glued to the screen with sappy smiles on their faces. They remember what it was like when Sid won the cup.

They watch Alex presented with the Conn Smythe in front of an adoring crowd and when Sid sees him hold the trophy up with his trade mark gap toothed smile and then let loose with his infectious laugh Sid is smiling too. He tells his parents, “He’s wanted the cup for so long,” by way of explanation and his voice is tight with emotion. Both his parents smile at him fondly.

Sid couldn’t be happier if he’s won the cup himself. Later that night he tries to call Alex’s but his phone goes directly to voicemail. He’s probably out celebrating Sid thinks and for a second he finds himself wishing he could be there too. He texts, “Congratulations,” and sends his message. As an afterthought he thumbs in “I miss you,” before thinking better of it and x-ing the words out.

Sid spends the rest of the week in Halifax and then flies back to Pittsburgh. He’s got some meetings with his agent and exit interviews with the team that he’s not looking forward to. It’s hard to justify how they played this season. Sid knows the Penguins management will be looking for answers in the upcoming weeks. He’ll be very surprised if Blysma is still the coach next season.

Sid finally gets hold of Alex and they spend half an hour talking. Sid spends a lot of the time effusing about the series with the Canucks and Alex is uncharacteristically humble about the whole thing. It’s surprises Sid a little.

He’d always thought Alex was cocky and arrogant until he got to know him and realized it wasn’t the case. A lot of the time Alex’s comments made him seem full of himself when really it was his English that was to blame. They don’t get to talk as long as Sid would like because Alex has family over from Russia and he’s got a million things going on. They promise to get together at the awards banquet and make plans for the summer after that. Sid can barely wait.

He’s at loose ends the second week back in Pittsburgh and gets a bit low. His back is still bugging him so he starts in on his vicodin and buys some more vodka. He spends a fair bit of time lying on the couch feeling sorry for himself. Christine calls him one night and offers to come over and check on him. In a weak moment he agrees. They end up fucking on the couch and then again in Sid’s room. When she hints afterwards that she’d love to go to the NHL awards in Vegas he half-heartedly agrees to take her. It’s the vodka talking.

The next morning when she texts him and says how excited she is to be going Sid curses the fact that she remembers. He’s own recollections of the previous night are pretty hazy but he knows that agreeing to let her come is just the kind of stupid thing he’s capable of doing when drunk. Fuck it.

Sid suggests a couple days later that maybe it’s not such a great idea that she come. He’s going to be really busy with appearances so he won’t be able to spend much time with her. He tries to bribe her by offering to take her somewhere else later but she’s not buying it. She wants to go to Vegas for the awards and can’t be dissuaded. Sid is too much of a wimp to flat out tell her no even though he’s not sure how he’s going to swing hooking up with Alex with her around. But he figures that where there’s a will there’s a way.

Sid’s marketing team is pleased when they hear Sid’s taking her to the awards. They are all for it. They’ve always been mildly concerned with his oddly celibate lifestyle and the inevitable speculation it generates. They’ve been quietly encouraging him to find the right girl and settle down for years so that he can better portray a wholesome image to the American market. The past season spent clubbing has not gone unnoticed. Some of his biggest sponsorships are with Disney and Family Channel and the last thing they want for a spokesperson is a playboy.

Sid and Christine fly out to Vegas together and check into Caesars’ Palace. He prays they don’t bump into Alex until he gets a chance to talk to him. He doesn’t have a clue how to explain Christine’s presence. He does have to admit that when she’s all done up like she is today, she looks like a million bucks. She fits right in with the Vegas crowd; a lot more than Sid does.

Sid suggests that maybe she see a show the first night instead of coming to the meet and greet. He tells her it will be really boring but she’ll have none of it. She’s brought all her dressy clothes and she’s not missing a thing. The get changed and go downstairs and she sticks to him like glue while he mingles, like some kind of large accessory on his arm. Sid is his usual socially awkward self and doesn’t even introduce her until people ask him who she is.

They bump into Geno half an hour in and Sid’s teammate does a double take when he sees Christine. His eyebrows disappear into his hairline and he glances nervously around the room after he greets them. Sid realizes again that bringing Christine along is a really bad idea despite the fact that she’s getting a lot of admiring glances from the men in the room.

Sid is getting more and more nervous so he excuses himself for a moment, goes to the men’s room, and drops a vicodin. He grabs a couple martini’s on the way back, intending to give one to Christine. But his goes down so good he ends up finishing it and has hers half gone when he finds her. She gives him a sour, where the hell is mine? look so he polishes off the second one and goes to get two more. He’s feeling a little more relaxed by then.

Christine is in her element with this crowd. She’s grown up rich, modeled for a living, and is used to these sort of social functions. She’s a beautiful girl and chats easily with everyone they meet. It gives Sid a bit of a break in that he doesn’t have to lead the conversation. He can stand around like the dork he is and only join the conversation when he’s drawn in. It’s a good thing because he’s well on his way to being shit faced drunk. He doesn’t see Alex until half way through the night.

Christine gets flirtier after a couple more martini’s and leads Sid from the crowd to a more private area. Sid’s not sure if it’s the alcohol, the red dress she’s wearing or all the men admiring his hot date but when she reaches up to kiss him he responds enthusiastically, Alex temporarily forgotten. She really is a smarter choice than Alex, Sid tells himself. She’s pretty and outgoing and........she’s a woman.

They begin to make out, oblivious to anyone else around. And suddenly it’s all wrong. The body he’s touching is too delicate, the pressure against him too light and there isn’t enough surface for his hands to explore. Her touch is too gentle, her kiss too soft, her scent too flowery and the little sighs she makes are far too feminine. Sid realizes a minute in that it’s wrong because she isn’t a man and more specifically she isn’t Alex.

Sid pulls back and ends the kiss. He needs to find Alex before he does anything else stupid. He’s just pushing her away when he notices the two of them have an audience. When Sid sees its Sumin and Alex watching them carefully his stomach drops. Christine smiles at them and wraps her arm further around Sid’s waist and he wants to tear it away. He doesn’t want Alex to see this. Sid wants to grab the other man’s hand, drag him off and somehow explain the situation but instead he stands as if paralyzed.

Christine giggles nervously and greets the two men but neither responds. Sumin is staring at Sid like he’s something odious he’s picked up on the bottom of his shoe. It’s pretty much how Sid is feeling. Alex wheels away and strides across the room followed by Sumin. Sid stares blindly in front of him, not even capable of hoping Christine doesn’t find his behaviour strange. He can’t focus or think about anything but the look in Alex’s eyes.

It had only been fleeting because the other man had turned away so quickly but Sid had recognized the look easily. It had been hurt. The short flash of emotion he had seen. There was no mistaking it for anger, confusion or anything else. There’s no doubt Sid has hurt Alex. He’s hurt him badly and the realization makes Sid feel sick to his stomach.

Christine takes Sid’s hand and he pulls it from her grasp. He needs to talk to Alex. Christine makes a surprised sound but Sid ignores her and walks away, looking through the crowd. Sid finds Alex with Sumin and Greenie surrounded by a group of journalists. When the group see him approaching Alex teammates look ready to beat the crap out of Sid despite there being an audience. Alex says a quiet word and the two of them stand down.

It makes Sid slightly hopeful but when he looks at Alex’s face it contains no emotion at all. It’s a mask. Sid has no idea where to start, what to do so he just approaches the group and stands just outside their periphery. Sid swallows nervously. All the journalists have turned to look at him now too.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks Alex politely, feeling his heartbeat drumming in his chest.

We busy, Crosby,” Sumin tells him coldly. Sid ignores him and instead looks to Alex for an answer.

Alex just looks around the group and shrugs before looking at him neutrally. He’s not giving Sid much.

“I mean, somewhere else,” Sid elaborates. Sid gestures towards the exit, “Can we go outside or something?”

Alex’s eyes narrow, “Nothing wrong with here.”

Sid’s met with only silence after that and the moment stretches on. He becomes aware that even more people are watching them curiously and it filters through the martini’s that he probably shouldn’t make a scene.

He swallows and looks Alex in the eye and says, “Just, please?”

Alex finally drops his eyes and just nods. He follows Sid when he walks to the side of the room. Sid’s makes sure to go in the opposite direction to where Christine last was. He finds an alcove they can stand in and be unobserved by the rest of the room. He puts his hand on Alex’s arm, craving contact with the other man and feels him flinch. When Alex tries to pull away Sid hangs on, determined to provoke any emotional reaction he can rather than have to deal with this coldness.

Sid finally lets go and the two men regard each other silently. He deliberates how to start the conversation, half hoping Alex will say something first, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to. He just watches Sid quietly and all Sid can think is that he wants to walk into Alex, run his hands over his body, lean against him and feel Alex’s arms surround him. He knows that isn’t even a remote option. There are too many things to say and although they stand only feet apart it feels like a football field.

Sid runs his hand nervously through his hair. “I’m really sorry. It isn’t what it looked like. She’s not....”

“No?” Ovechkin stares at him unemotionally.

“Yeah. She actually kissed me....” It’s pathetic and Sid knows it. Alex calls him on it immediately.

“Could see you fighting her off,” he states coldly.

“Listen, I know what it looked like, okay? But she’s not what I want,” Sid finally blurts out.   
Sid sighs before continuing in a lower voice, “I’d rather be with you...” he trails off and Alex looks at him as if he doesn’t believe a word of it which makes Sid insist, “She wanted to come to Las Vegas and I said okay. I tried to talk her out of it after but.....I know it was stupid, okay? I’ve said I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head; there is no way to explain it and no satisfactory excuse. He’s totally screwed everything up. He knows it was a bad idea to bring Christine but he can’t undo it now.   
“If you want to be with me, why are you sticking your tongue down her throat? Why do you bring girl at all?” Alex asks angrily.

Sid shrugs and looks away. He’s a little relieved to see Alex switch from cold indifference to anger, though he doesn’t feel overly comfortable with it either.

“She wanted to come,” Sid explains lamely. “So I let her. But it doesn’t matter with us. We can still....” he trails off.

“You go out with her?”

“Not really. I mean, sort of....Sometimes,” he fumbles.

“But you fuck her?” Alex demands.

Sid can’t think of anything to say and Alex takes his silence as a yes. He’s looking at Sid with a tight lipped sadness than makes Sid want to cry. There is no way he can articulate the difference between what he feels about Christine and what he feels about Alex so he just looks at the floor.

Alex finally just sighs and shakes his head. “Go back to your girlfriend, Sidney. Not polite to just leave her like that,” he tells him. He turns away and Sid instinctively grabs for his arm again. Alex turns back towards him and gives him one more pitying look before he shrugs him off.

“Do svidaniya, Sidney,” Alex tells him and then walks back into the crowd.

Sid watches him go and when he disappears within a group Sid goes to find Christine. He tells her he’s going back to the room. She takes one look at the expression on his face and doesn’t protest. There really isn’t anything or anyone to stay around for.

 

*************************

 

The following night Sid sits with Christine while Alex accepts award after award, each time thanking his team mates and family for their support. Sid goes home empty handed for the first time in years. He drinks more than he should again that night and when he fucks Christine he insists that that she get on her hands and knees. He fucks her hard and the next morning she’s covered in bruises and will barely talk to him. She was already angry about last night and this is the last straw.

Sid is more miserable than he’s ever been in his life. He flies home the next day and over the next couple weeks he tries phoning Alex several times. He never answers his cell. Sid leaves messages but the Alex never returns his calls.

Sid tries calling Geno and can’t reach him either. What the hell is with these Russians? In desperation he calls Alex Sumin and is relieved when he picks up the call. But as soon as Sid identifies himself he gets a hostile, “Fuck off, Crosby,” before he hangs up.

He tries Geno again the next day and finally reaches him. Malkin doesn’t sound thrilled to be hearing from Sid but at least he stays on.

“Where’s Alex?,” he demands. “I can’t get hold of him.” Sid tries not to sound frantic but he knows his emotions are showing in his voice.

Geno is guarded when he replies. “Gone home to Russia, like always,” he tells him.

“I know. But he won’t return my calls.”

“Maybe he busy,” Geno suggests neutrally.

Sid’s never talked to anyone on the team about Alex and he doesn’t really want to start now but finally he just sighs and admits, “I think I really fucked up.”

There is silence at the other end of the line for several seconds and then Sid finally hears a sigh. “Yeah, you did,” Geno agrees.

Sid is afraid he’s going to start crying and he struggles to get his emotions under control. He can feel the early beginnings of a panic attack forming. “I just don’t know...” he starts.

There is silence over the line and Sid just sits there waiting. It takes a couple minutes before Geno starts to talk again and when he does he sounds reluctant.

“Remember you ask me once about feud with Alex? What was about?” he starts.

“Yeah.” 

“I never talk about this with no one. Just you. Is personal. Okay? You never tell no one, okay, Sid?”

Sid nods and then realizes Geno can’t see him so he answers, “I won’t. I promise.”

“I know Alex long time. Team mates, friends. I make big mistake when I come to NHL. I hook up with him a few times, you know, fool around. For me, I was lonely. Didn’t know people. It was fun times. But for Alex it was maybe more. I hurt him.”

Sid knows immediately that the only reason Geno would tell him this is that he knows how Sid feels about Alex, and more importantly, how Alex feels about him. He needs to know more, he needs to know everything about Alex, about his past relationships, who he’s loved, so that he knows how to fix this. Sid doesn’t know if it’s even possible but he knows he has to try.

“What happened?” Sid asks quietly.

He hears Geno laugh quietly on the other end of the line. “We all in Moscow. Out at club. Drinking, having fun. I was stupid. I hit on Alex Semin.”

He stops talking and finally Sid has to prompt, “And?”

Geno sighs, “Is why I know Semin straight. He punch me in face. Not just because straight. Because he know how much Alex like me. Say don’t deserve Alex.”

“Was that the time Alex punched your agent,” Sid asks, remembering mention of the story.

“Yeah. Was bad scene,” Geno confirms. “Shit show. Agent punch Semin. Alex punch him. Huge fight. We get out before police comes. Hope it stay out of news. Some of it did. Alex pissed off for long time. Not good. I feel terrible. Sasha right. I didn’t deserve Alex. Was fun but I like girls too. For Alex was......important.”

“But you’re friends again now?” Sid asks. “How did your work it out?” Sid is slightly comforted by the fact that Geno had been able to fuck things up as well as he can. Or maybe it is a Penguins trait? He’ll have to ask Jordie and Flower more about their love lives, he thinks.

“Not us,” Geno tells him. “I mean, I try but Alex not listen. He very .....stubborn,” Geno struggles for the right word to use. “But Kovy make us go out with him. Talk to us. Make us drink together. He say stupid Russians. Say we good friends one time. Is stupid to forget that. Tell us to make up or he kick our asses. Is what I want anyway, but Alex finally agree. Thanks god for Kovy,” Geno concludes. “Or Alex prolly kill me by now in game. Was scary have him so mad.”

He stops talking. That’s a lot of English for Geno. He's probably exhausted. Sid digests what he’s heard. He can imagine how it would be terrible to have Alex pissed off at you. He knows he's in the same boat. And he needs to fix it. The problem is that they are continents apart.

Sid admits, “I’m an idiot. I know that. He must hate me now.”

Geno sighs. “Sid, look, I like you. You.....weird sometimes, but teammate. You friend. But Alex friend too. Old friend. Don’t want to see get hurt.”

Sid blinks back tears. “I don’t want to hurt him either,” he gets out even though his throat feels thick. He hasn’t done a very good job so far. He swallows a couple times and then finally admits, “I don’t know what to do.”

There is more silence, even longer this time. “Decide what you want Sid. You want girlfriend, of you want Alex. But not both.” Geno tells him. “Is up to you. Alex have big heart. But can still break.”

“I know what I want,” Sid tells him. “But he won’t even talk to me.”

Geno thinks a minute before answering. “Give him time, Sid. He upset. And you think too. Is not easy being like Alex in NHL. Is lonely. Is......complicated. Was not for me. Easier to have girlfriend. Love him like brother but......” he leaves the rest unsaid. “So you take summer and think about things. Be sure. Okay?”

“Okay,” Sid tells him. “Look, thanks for telling me this stuff. I better go.”

“Yeah, okay Sid. “Have good summer, okay?”

“I will. You have a good summer too.”

“And keep mouth shut about what I say,” Geno warns him.

“Yeah. Don’t worry,” Sid promises. “And Geno.....Thanks.”

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

Sid flies home to Halifax right after the awards. He misses Alex with a dull ache he’s powerless to do anything about. Sid tries calling him numerous times be he never answers or returns his calls. He resorts to following Alex on the internet, continually checking some of the blogs that track him and following him on Twitter. He sees photos of Alex where he looks happy and relaxed, clowning with friends, out and about. Sid studies the men he’s with and wonders if any of them are lovers.

Without realizing it’s happening Sid slides into a depression. He keeps to himself and watches sports on TV. He doesn’t think to call his family and none of his friends even know he’s back yet. Finally his mother figures something is up and comes over to find him still in his sleep pants in the afternoon watching golf. She tells him he’s coming with them to the cottage for the weekend to help them paint. She knows, and so does Sid, than when he’s like this he needs to keep busy.

Three days of scraping and painting the cottage help. He still thinks about Alex a lot and also about the things Geno told him. When they go home he’s feeling a little better although his mom does suggest he maybe “see someone”. Sid tells her no, he’ll be fine once he gets into his routine. He calls up some of his friends and makes some golf dates. His mom is still worried so she insists he come eat dinner with them a couple times a week.

Sid spends the rest of the summer doing all the usual things. One difference is that he’s determined to stay in peak shape. Next season is going to be better. He signs up for Pilates classes for his back and so gets teased mercilessly by his school friends. They tell him he’s been living in the city too long and call him a metrosexual. He tries not to blush when they rib him about it.

He plays softball and goes to the pub with the team after the games. He likes the easy camaraderie as they talk about their jobs, their current girlfriends or lack of current girlfriends. It’s easy and Sid feels like he belongs. He realizes after a month of so that he couldn’t bring Alex here and do these things. People would figure it out. They would wonder and Sid would never be able to tell them the truth. The two of them couldn’t work in Halifax.

Though it still hurts Sid realizes that it’s best that he’s ended things. It’s not like they have a future. When Sid settles down it will have to be with a girl. He’ll get married and have 2.3 children and his wife will join a sorority and sit on the parent advisory committee at the school. They’ll put the kids in hockey in the winter and softball in the summer and they’ll have their friends over for barbeques on the weekend. His life will be just like his parents life was, like all his friends lives are like in Nova Scotia.

A wife like Christine will be the way to go. He can bring her here and they will fit right in. That’s something Sid can’t imagine Alex ever doing. Halifax wouldn’t know what to make of a 6’2” Russian with a propensity for clubbing, gold chains, and Italian designer clothing. As much as Sid loves fucking Alex he knows he can’t have a boyfriend, at least, not if he wants to come home to his family and friends. He doesn’t know what he was thinking.

Sid decides to patch things up with Christine so he invites her up to visit for a week. It’s not a great success. If she doesn’t fit in any better than Alex would at least she is easier to explain. Sid’s buddies take one look at the hot girlfriend and can make allowances for her big city ways. The wives are more reserved. Christine takes one look at Halifax and Sid knows she hates it. When she flies to New York for work he’s relieved to see her go.

But not as relieved as his parents are. They’ve met Christine before and didn’t like her the first time. A second meeting hasn’t improved the situation. Sid catches his mom watching Christine with pursed lips a few times and he knows what that means; parental disapproval. Taylor meets her too and though she tries to be friendly Sid can tell that Christine is not her cup of tea either.

For her part, Christine never really warms up to Sid’s family. She grew up in private boarding schools. Her parents separated when she was young and she’s spent little time with either of them. From what Sid knows her father is an entertainment lawyer in LA and her mother spends her time between New York and Europe. Christine has no use for a close family, not like Sid, or even Alex for that matter.

Despite Christine Sid is still certain getting together would be a bad idea. His decision is reinforced one evening when he’s watching the news with his parents. A gay couple have been cornered in downtown Halifax and beaten by a group of drunk young men. The two men will be alright but they’ve both been hospitalized with their injuries. The perpetrators have all been caught and charged with assault. Their families are making statements about being ashamed of their son’s. The kids all say they are sorry and don’t know why they did it.

But Sid knows. He also knows that they could easily be anyone he grew up with. Sid used to be the same when he was younger, long before he realized he liked men. Sid’s heard all the talk, the dressing room comments about faggots and cock suckers and how homosexuals who get beat up have it coming to them. Though he’s never said those things, he’s never stopped anyone either.

Sid’s parents watch the news report in horror and shake their heads. They seem genuinely shocked at what has happened. His mom tisks and says it’s such a shame; Halifax just isn’t not that kind of town. Sid’s not really sure if they disapprove of what’s happened or that the two men were silly enough to walk around Halifax arm in arm. Sid doesn’t even want to ask.

At the end of the summer he flies back to Pittsburgh determined to put Alex behind him and focus on hockey. He’s fitter than he’s ever been when he hits training camp and the team trainers are impressed with his dedication. They have a new coach, just as Sid had figured they would. They’ve also got some new guys trying out for the team and Sid watches them all vie for a position in the line up.

They’ve got a kid in from Russia, Valery Krylov who they drafted last spring in the first round. He’s been playing in the KHL for two years already. He’s only twenty and looks more like fourteen. He doesn’t look like he shaves yet. But he plays well during the try outs and the new coach decides to give him a chance. Flower’s had to have knee surgery over the summer and the trainers don’t want him playing for a while yet

The kid’s one problem is that he’s a bundle of nerves all the time. He can never seem to sit still, pacing around the dressing room before and after practise. He seems so young to be thousands of miles from home. Sid wonders if, despite his obvious talent, he may not be cut out for the NHL. Only time will tell.

He’s surprised one day when the kid comes to him after practise and asks if they can talk. He looks more nervous than usual and Sid tries for what he hopes is a reassuring smile and agrees immediately. After all, he is the captain and it’s part of his job to listen to his team and to help them out. He finishes changing and suggests they go out for a coffee.

The kid agrees immediately so Sid takes him to the shop at the rink. He smiles when the kid orders a hot chocolate instead of coffee and orders one too. They sit down at a table and sip their cocoa while Sid waits for the kid to start. By the way he’s worrying his lower lip Sid can tell he’s got something important on his mind. Sid gives him the time he needs to figure out how to say it.

Valery smiles nervously and starts. “I can’t believe I sitting here with Sidney Crosby. Is like dream,” he tells him. His pale cheeks start to blush.

“Look,” Sid tells him. “It’s really not that big a deal. I’m just part of a team, you know?”  
The kid looks at him blankly. Clearly he’s not convinced but he’s too polite to disagree with Sid. He nods and looks down at his hands where they are wrapped around his mug. They’re huge, like a puppy who hasn’t grown into them yet.

“But I am team captain,” Sid continues. “So I want you to know that if you have any problems, need anything, you can come to me, okay?”

The kid smiles at that and then gets a more determined look on his face. Sid leans back in his chair and waits for him to get started.

“So, there something I need to tell you right away,” he tells Sid and Sid nods encouragingly.

“I need to tell you that I’m....., that I’m gay. Is no secret at home in Russia. I am what you say.....out. Hockey people know. Russian sports federation know. I don’t care if I say anything here, but Russian players in NHL already know. Don’t know if big deal here or not but want to tell you. So you know too,” he finally concludes doggedly.

Sid feels his mouth go dry while he listens and his palms begin to sweat. He clears his throat nervously and asks, “So, why are you telling me this?”

His first thought is that the kid knows. Someone on the team has said something, or even worse, Valery, after being in training camp with him for only a week can already tell, can immediately sense the gayness in Sid. He can feel a blush creeping up his face while he looks at the kid. His heart starts to beat faster.

Valery looks slightly taken aback and tells him, “Well, because you are captain of team. I tell some guys already. Geno know from home. I don’t say anything to press or anything. Could find out though if look close. So I want to tell you myself in case it come out. I talk to my dad last night and he say is right thing to do.”

Sid’s shoulders relax a bit and he lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He feels like he needs to say something reassuring here but he’s still composing himself. The kid is fine, he looks determined if anything, but Sid’s nerves are shot. He knows he’s failing at being a mentor here.

“I hope is okay with you, Sid?” the kid says. “Guys are all good. Say don’t matter to them. Don’t care. So hope it don’t matter to you either. Is important to me that is okay. Because I can’t help who I am.”

He looks at Sid with a worried expression and Sid realizes the kid’s probably had to fight this particular battle before. He’s not going to back down. Sid realizes he admires him for it. He wishes he had enough courage to do the same.

“It doesn’t matter to me either,” Sid hears himself tell Valery even though he knows that what he really should say, if he had any courage at all, is that he’s gay too. “I’m glad the guys are cool with it. They’ll have your back, don’t worry. They’re a good bunch of people.”

The kid smiles at Sid like an enormous weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “Thanks, Sid. It means a lot to me.”

“So, is everything okay here in Pittsburgh,” Sid asks him. “You find a place to stay?”

Valery nods. “Yeah, Salender let me stay with him for while until I see if I’m staying. Is good to have roommate. Is lonely so far from Russia.”

“Well, good,” Sid smiles. He’s glad the kid is settling in, and good the two youngsters on the team are sharing a place. It makes sense. He checks his watch and realizes he needs to get going.

“Look, I’ve got to get going,” he tells the kid. “I’ve got a couple meetings this afternoon. But if there’s anything else I can do, just call me.”

“Thanks, Sid,” Valery smiles. “Was nice talking.”

Sid walks to his car, deep in thought. He admires how brave this kid is; living in a foreign country, one that’s still not always accepting of homosexuals, and determined to live honestly, and to be himself. Sid knows he’s taking a risk with his career and hopes the best for him. He also realizes he’s vaguely ashamed of himself.

 

****************************

 

They start the season with high hopes. The Penguins roster is looking much better now that all the injured players are back. They are optimistic that this year will be much better. To be honest; it couldn’t be much worse. Below fifty percent and out of the playoffs isn’t hard to improve on.

They win the first two games against Vancouver and Boston and settle into a rhythm. It feels good to be back on the ice. It gives Sid a sense of purpose again. The team is clicking, everyone playing well. Krylov is steady in goal with occasionally flashes of brilliance. Sid’s scoring again too, getting goals in both games and he gives a sigh of relief. Apparently he’s still got it.

They get a reality check when they meet the Caps at home. The crowd is wild. It’s the first home game since winning the cup and it’s sold out. The Penguins have to stand through what feels like a never ending tribute to the Caps before the game starts. It’s enough to demoralize any team. When Sid glances at Krylov the kid is as pale as a ghost. He looks like he might throw up.

The game eventually starts and the Caps come out flying. They ended last season on a winning streak and have started this season where they left off. They obviously don’t think it will end with the Penguins tonight. Despite his nerves, Krylov keeps them in the game, even though Alex is playing as if it’s the finals all over again and his teammates seem equally determined.

Alex ignores him completely but Sid realizes there’s more at stake than the game when Greenie forces him against the boards with a punishing check and then, to add insult to injury, rubs his glove over his face before he skates away. It’s not really dirty or anything, but it’s enough to let Sid know that Mike Green is displeased with him.

On Sid’s next shift the Caps rookie Craig knocks him to the ice after the whistle. It’s a late but the official doesn’t call it. When Sid complains to the ref about it the young defenseman circles back and calls him a “cunt.”

Sid knows then something is definitely up. He’s been called a lot of things on the ice but that’s a new one. Sid gets to his feet and heads for the bench, collecting more hostile glances from the Caps. What bothers Sid more is the fact that none of his teammates are falling over themselves to stick up for him.

Sid gets nailed for a third time, this time in the crease by Laich, and he goes down hard. He hadn’t seen the hit coming and it knocks the wind out of him. He’s slow to get up and his team finally take exception to the way he’s being roughed up. Jordie drops his gloves and goes at it with Green. Sid may be a cheating coward but he’s still their captain and the team rally’s around him.

Players from both teams mill around, grabbing each other’s shirts and shoving, posturing with each other while the linesmen try to separate everyone. Sid can’t help but notice that neither Alex nor Geno take part in the melee. The two of them are standing off to the side and talking quietly in Russian.

Sid picks himself up off the ice and struggles to get his breath back while he watches the action. When things are finally under control and the teams send back to their respective benches Sid asks Geno what the hell the two of them were talking about.

Geno tells him, “I tell him call everyone off. You can’t help if you do stupid things.”  
Sid isn’t sure whether he should be happy with Geno for meddling or pissed off at the way he’s being represented. At least the dirty hits stop. There are no more fights and the game ends with the Caps winning easily by a score of 2 – 4. It’s the Penguins first loss of the season but at least it’s not a complete rout. Sid is just glad everyone, himself included, escapes without injury.

He and Alex are both on the ice at the end of the game but the other man won’t meet his eyes. Sid skates up to him after the buzzer, wanting to say something, anything, to make sure he’s alright, but Alex spins away before he can speak. When Sid tries to follow him Semin cuts in and shoulders Sid towards his own bench. The message is clear. Sid puts his head down and leaves the ice. If any of the players meet after the game Sid doesn’t hear about it.

 

*******************

 

The Penguins head to the west coast for a five game road trip and Sid forces Alex out of his mind. He tells himself yet again that it’s for the best. As liberal as Canada is, as much as Sid suspects his team mates wouldn’t care, Sid is the face of NHL hockey. And Sid knows that from Bettman, the team owners, and the advertisers down, they would not want to hear that Sidney Crosby likes to fuck men. It’s totally incompatible with his place in professional hockey.

When they get back to Pittsburgh Sid’s management team want him to come in. They’ve negotiated new endorsement deals with Coke and Reebok and they need him to sign the contracts. There’s only an optional skate that morning so after he gets up and showers Sid heads downtown.

Sid’s team consists of his publicist, his agent, and his lawyers. It takes a few people to run Sidney Crosby Inc. and they like to meet with him every couple months to make sure everything is still on course. One of the lawyers hand him the contracts to read and he starts to go through them. For the first time ever Sid actually reads everything the contracts say.

He finally looks up and asks, “What does this part about morality mean?”

His agent tells him, “It’s just a formality, Sid. All these contracts have them.”

Sid’s not sure he buys that. “Sounds like more than a formality to me.” He looks at his lawyer for a better answer.

The lawyer nods at Sid, “It just means that if you do anything that reflects badly on the product you’re been paid to endorse it can void the contract.”

“Do you have to have done anything illegal?” Sid asks him.

Fuck, it’s not the Victorian era. Hooking up with guys may be frowned upon in professional sport but Sid knows he’s not breaking any laws, at least that he knows about. He briefly wonders if maybe Pennsylvania may be one of the states that still ban homosexually.

“No. That’s the thing, Sid. It doesn’t.” Lawyer tells him, warming up to the subject. “They just have to prove that your actions have been detrimental to selling their product. It could be as little as being photographed drinking Pepsi when you are sponsoring Coke. Not that they generally go that far.”

Sid doesn’t like the sound of that at all. He puts down his pen on the table without signing anything. He needs to think. He’s not hooking up with Alex anymore but people know about them. It could get out.

Sid’s manager smiles at him reassuringly. “It’s just a way for them to protect their investment, Sid. They are paying you millions of dollars to promote their product after all. This way, if there is any scandal, they have an out. They can refuse to pay you.”

“How would they do that?” Sid asks softly.

It’s the lawyer who answers again. “Well, generally they take the person to civil court,” he tells Sid. “They get witnesses to testify as to what the person has been doing. And try to prove how it’s adversely affecting the product they are selling. Then a judge decides whether their claim is valid or not and he, or she, rules on it.”

“In court?” Sid almost gasps. “Like it would be in the news?”

“Sure,” the lawyer nods. “The press has access to civil court cases. When it’s a celebrity involved it’s generally big news.”

Sid’s manager jumps in again when he notices Sid hasn’t signed any of the contracts. “You don’t need to worry about that stuff, Sid. It will never happen with you. Nothing to worry about there.”

“No,” Sid agrees, struggling not to appear nervous. “For sure. Nothing to worry about there.”

He picks up the pen again and signs all the contracts before anyone can wonder why he’s hesitated so long. His hand shakes a little when he signs his name.

After Sid finishes the meeting he sits in his car for a long time, just thinking. He can’t imagine being involved in a public scandal, can’t imagine what it would be like for his family. He worries that someone from one of the teams could come forward and leak information to the press about he and Alex. It’s made Sid realize that he has a lot to lose.

All Sid’s endorsements have morality clauses. If the truth were to get out he could be publicly dumped. The whole house of cards could come crashing down around him. He’d be a media pariah, cast out from the NHL and everything he’s ever wanted. Sid realizes he’s starting an anxiety attack and takes some Ativan before he drives home. That night he wakes up in a cold sweat, panic stricken, worried that someone might out him.

Sid takes Mario’s advice from the last season to heart and stays home a lot. He’s all business. He’s signed a new contract with Tim Horton’s and does some appearances for them but other than that he stays in. Not that he gets lot of invites. Even his own team seem mildly disproving which Sid doesn’t think is fucking fair at all. He’s playing his guts out every game.

The team, under a new coach, seems to have turned things around. They have been playing consistently and are currently second in their division behind Philly. Flower is back but Vasha’s been playing so well he’s getting to start every third game. Salender, to his own surprise, is second in the league in goals scored, surpassed only by Alex. Sid’s got twenty goals already himself. More than he had all of last year. It seems as if his preparation and focus are paying off.

The Penguins play the Caps again in November at home and it’s a good one. The chippiness of the last game is missing and the two teams concentrate on playing really good hockey. Sid scores a goal in the second period to put them ahead. Unfortunately Alex answers with two of his own and they finish with the Caps winning 3 – 2. After the horn Sid skates up to Alex to congratulate in.

“Hey, good game,” Sid tells him before Alex has a chance to evade him.

He looks at Sid neutrally but finally says, “Thanks.” 

He seems tired and sad but Sid thinks he sees a hint of a smile on the other man’s face before he looks away. It’s all he can hope for right now. He wants to be like Geno and, if nothing else, be friends with Alex again. He misses him a lot; their time together, the easy conversations and Alex’s cheeky sense of fun. It suddenly Sid just how lonely he is.

His publicist has been urging Sid to take Christine out to more of his appearances so he calls her up. Sid knows he’s trying to prove to himself that he can function in a relationship with a woman and find happiness in the life he’s chosen, in a life without Alex. Christine is free that night and agrees immediately. Afterwards Sid takes her home and they have sex. It’s okay.

Sex is not much different than other areas of Sid’s life. He tries hard, always wants to be the best he can be under the given circumstances. Sid hates to disappoint. He’s not necessarily the most naturally gifted but he is focused, understands hard work, and gives his all. Christine seems to enjoy herself. It’s just that Sid can’t help but feel like he’s going through the motions. It’s pleasurable, a kind of social form of masturbation, but not exactly mind-blowing.

When the Penguins are in Washington next, Sid realizes he’s been kidding himself about wanting to be friends with Alex. Just watching him on the ice, playing hockey, joking around, talking to his friends, is enough to make Sid want all over again. Despite his many rationalizations Sid realizes he needs Alex more than ever. He doesn’t know what to do with this knowledge.

Sid goes to his hotel room after the game and gets drunk for the first time in months. He texts his room number to Alex but gets no reply. Sid stays awake for hours, hoping he might show up, but finally gives up and goes to sleep, curled up in his bed, painfully hard.

Alex is the first person who’s made Sid crave sex. With him it has exceeded all expectations and everything Sid had ever imagined sex can be. With Alex Sid can just let go and make love, loose himself in sensation and forget about performance and expectations. With Alex it just feels right. The only problem is that it’s not happening anymore. Sid realizes he needs to do something about it.

The Penguins host Montreal two days before Christmas and then they are off for five. His parents fly down to spend the holiday with him and Sid’s arranged to fly his sister down from university in Montreal. It’s nice to have them around. He’s missed them more than usual this year though they talk often on the phone.

He and Taylor go to the mall Christmas Eve day and she chatters away about the courses she’s taking, boys she knows at school, and how her college hockey team is doing. She asks him about the team but knows better than to bother asking about girlfriends. She knows Sid is all about hockey.

Sid’s glad Christine has flown to Europe to spend Christmas in the Alps with her mother. He just wants to relax and be with his family. He doesn’t want to complicate things with any drama. It’s not like Christine really likes being around them either; the feeling is mutual. He wonders what Alex Ovechkin is doing for Christmas. He calls Geno Christmas day to wish him a merry Christmas but though Sid stays on the line longer than he needs to, he can’t bring himself to ask about the other Russian.

 

*****************************

 

For the first time the NHL All Star game is being held outside North America. The league is determined to expand their markets to China so the game is being played in Hong Kong. The powers that be have added a couple days to the all star break to accommodate the travel. It’s a good thing; it’s a bloody long flight. Sid is surprised when he realizes he’s lost a day in getting there. He doesn’t sleep a wink on the flight so he arrives in Hong Kong exhausted.

Sid’s been keyed up ever since he found out he was going, not because of the game but because it will give him another opportunity to see Alex. It’s all he can think about on the plane while he lays there in his first class seat, listening to Geno snoring beside him. Once in a while Sid gets frustrated enough to elbow Geno to make him stop. He wakes up and gives Sid a baleful look before going back to sleep and snoring some more. Sid ends up watching movies the whole way.

Sid’s quite surprised he’s attending at all. He’s been playing well but he’s certainly not leading the scoring race. He thinks he got in on a sympathy vote. Sid knows there are younger and faster guys coming up each year, each of them eager to take over top spot. It still comes as a shock when he hears a sports writer refer to him as the veteran centre of the Pittsburgh Penguins.

Alex has secured his place on the first team easily. He’s still the king. His play this year has been stronger than the year before. For all Sid’s determination to get back, to fight his way once more to the top, taking his team with him, Alex seems to have been able to do it without even trying.

The NHL has ditched the East Vs West format for a new one. The captains of the previous year’s Stanley Cup final teams will head the two teams. They will choose their members from a roster of players voted in by sportswriters and fans. Henrik Sedin and Alex Ovechkin are the captains. They do the player selection the day they arrive in the banquet hall of the hotel.  
Sid is crabby from lack of sleep and he frets that he’s going to be the last player selected to a team. He’s going to be like the kid with asthma in first grade that no one wants.

During the selection the guys joke around, chirping each other, teasing about the order they’re selected. It’s all in fun; everyone knows the honour is in being on the All Star team to begin with. Sid is stunned when Alex chooses him almost immediately, right after Geno. He’s not the only one. There’s a stunned silence from the assembled crowd as Sid crosses the room. Geno says something in Russian that makes a smile twitch across Alex’s lips. Sid hopes it means Alex is willing to give him another chance.

Where often these contests can be lacklustre this one turns into a damn good game. Team Sedin takes an early lead, going ahead by one and then two goals until Team Ovechkin gets on track. From then until the end of the second period it’s end to end hockey with both goalie’s stopping everything. It’s an exhibition so it doesn’t have the intensity as regular season but the guys are definitely showing their moves. Some of the passes go a little wild; it’s tough when you don’t normally play together.

For the third period the coach throws Sid, Geno and Alex on a line and it immediately clicks. Daniel Sedin gets called for tripping Geno and they go on the powerplay. Alex gets them on scoreboard with a blistering shot from the point that Luongo doesn’t even see coming. Sid wheels around to celebrate the goal but when he see’s who’s scored he holds up. Alex is already surrounded by jubilant players so Sid heads to the bench.

Alex scored again on their next shift, this time on an end to end rush that has the opposing players shaking their heads. Luongo stops his first shot but Sid is right on top of the rebound. He can’t do anything with it; he’s between Luongo and the defence so he doesn’t have anywhere to go. Instead he passes it blindly out to the slot where he thinks Alex might have pulled up.

Alex is right there waiting. He one times it in to tie the game. The shot is blisteringly fast; Sid can practical feel the wind as it goes past him. He’s thankful it didn’t hit him; it would have taken his head off. When he sees the light come on Sid skates up behind Alex and taps him on the leg with his stick, drawing his attention.

“Good goal,” he tells him.

Alex has a huge grin huge grin on his face after he finishes hugging Geno. The smile drops slightly when he sees Sid but he becomes more certain again and he ducks his head modestly and says, “Was nice pass.”

Sid finds himself smiling back. It was a damn nice pass. He’s watched Alex play enough to know where he likes to be if his first shot doesn’t go in. Sid barely had to think about what to do. They head to the bench with five minutes left and the game tied 2 – 2 and end up sitting side by side. They’re both winded after a long shift and sit fighting to catch their breath. Sid shakes off an urge to lean into Alex, craving an contact he can get. Instead he watches play unfold on the ice.

Two minutes later he feels a tap on his shoulder from the coach; it’s time to go out again. Sid stands up to hop over the boards and Alex nudges him with his glove. Sid looks at him in surprise and sees he’s grinning at him.

“Okay, Sid,” Alex tells him. “One more.”

It’s just so normal, so familiar that it makes Sid’s heart clench although he just nods his head in agreement.

“Yeah,” he smiles faintly, “One more.”

Sid skates to the faceoff circle in their end and waits for the puck to drop. He feels eerily calm, focused and in the zone. The few civil words from Alex, the thought that the two of them may be okay, helps him focus on the game. It does more for his play than anything else could. He wins the draw and play goes back behind the net. Sid can hear bodies hitting the boards behind him but he has his eyes up the ice. Team Sedin’s defence is pushing deep in Sid’s zone and their not leaving anyone back. Sid can see Alex near the blue line on his left.

One of Sid’s defencemen, he doesn’t even notice who, gets the puck out to him and he turns up ice. He sees Alex get away from his check and slips the puck to him. Sedin is on him in a second but Alex gets past him by sheer determination. Greenie is the only one with a chance to get back but he’s on the other side of the ice. He tries anyway but runs out of space and in desperation blatantly hooks Alex to stop him getting a shot off. It’s so obvious Sid has to laugh.

Alex manages to shoot anyway but he doesn’t have a lot on it and Luongo stops the puck easily. The rebound slides to the top of the crease where Sid is waiting. He flips it easily over the sprawling goalie and scores. Sid sees it go in just before Greenie skates into him from behind and they both land on top of Luongo in the net.

When Sid gets to his feet Alex is the laughing and pulling him into a hug, patting his glove on Sid’s helmet in congratulation and Sid almost clings to him while the rest of the guys close in. The sense of relief, of knowing just how much he’s missed Alex hits him so hard he almost goes to his knees.

Team Ovechkin manages to hang on to the lead for the win and Alex is voted MPV. In the dressing room afterwards both Sid and Alex are surrounded by press. They don’t get a chance to speak to each other at all. By the time Sid is finished with his interviews Alex is already gone. He ends up showering and dressing with Geno and hopes he’ll be able to see Alex at the party afterwards.

The league has rented a penthouse suite for the night. It’s their chance to entertain and for the players to mingle with interested investors and press from mainland China. The players have been warned by league executives to be on their best behaviour. The fact that Alex will be there is the only reason Sid can be bothered at all. But he’s looking forward to it a lot.

After the summer Sid’s resolve had been firm. He would stay away from Alex. He would concentrate only on hockey. He would date, find a nice girl one day and get married. Unfortunately over the last couple months Sid’s realized that.......he can’t. He’s tried to repeat his mantra,it’s for the best, it’s for the best, it’s for the best over and over to keep himself on track but gradually he’s been weakening.

Playing with Alex, sitting next to him on the bench, hugging after a goal has finally broken the last wall down. The fear of exposure, of morality clauses, the threat of scandal isn’t enough to make him stay away. Sid needs to fix things between them. He just hopes that Alex does too because if he doesn’t, Sid doesn’t know what he’ll do.

Sid changes into his suit for the event and his hands shake when he tries to tie his tie. He takes four tiny bottles of vodka from the mini-bar and pours them in a glass with some ice and slams it down. The alcohol hits him fast and hard now that he’s almost completely stopped drinking.

This event is everything Sid hates. He’s dragged from one group of Chinese businessmen to another by his handlers and doesn’t have an opportunity to find Alex. Sid’s glimpsed him on the other side of the ballroom doing the same thing but he’s always surrounded by people. Alex is the star of the show and everyone wants a piece of him tonight. Sid chats politely and makes sure to grab a glass of champagne whenever one of the servers comes within reach with a tray.

Eventually the groups start to blur together and Sid has the terrible feeling that he’s been talking to the same people over and over again. At least they all look the same. He notices that many of the players are gone and tries to think of a good excuse to leave. The alcohol is making his thinking muddled. Sid spots Alex slipping through a pair of French doors that lead to the balcony. It’s his chance. Sid goes after him, grabbing two more glasses of champagne on the way.

Sid frowns when he gets outside. The balcony seems to be empty. But then he sees Alex in the corner, leaning against the railing watching him from the shadows. His eyes are dark, his expression unreadable. Sid only stares back at him. There’s so much to say and he doesn’t know where to start. He looks down at the glasses in his hands and holds one out.

“Want one?” he asks. And it’s the lamest opening in the world but Alex seems to accept it.

A hint of a smile pulls up one side of his mouth and he holds out a hand. “Sure. Why not,” he shrugs. “Celebrate game. Was good one.”

Alex holds up his glass in salute and downs the champagne. When Sid tries to return the toast he misjudges and clips his teeth with the rim of the glass, spilling some champagne his shirt. He starts to giggle nervously and then Alex is right there, taking the glass from him, setting it down on a table along with his own. Sid steps into his bulk and rests his head on Alex’s chest without thinking.

Alex doesn’t respond but he doesn’t withdraw either. Finally he asks, “Sid, why are you here?”  
Sid shakes his head against Alex’s chest. “It was too hot in there,” he begins, knowing that’s not what Alex meant at all.

While the air outside is definitely cooler, Sid can feel heat radiating off Alex’s body, and there’s the same heady smell he remembers. Instead of trying to say any more he wraps his hand around Alex’s neck and pulls him down for a kiss, mashing their mouths together. He’s relieved when Alex puts his hands on Sid’s shoulders and responds. When they finally pull apart they hold each other’s gaze uneasily, eyelids flickering in half-blinks and not-quite-flinches.

The music and the chatter inside seem so distant Sid can hardly hear it. A strange roar is muting it, and he realizes it’s his blood, his heart pumping it though his body faster than normal.

“I’ve missed you so much,” he blurts out finally. It’s the first honest thing he’s said in months. “I can’t do it anymore. I hate this. I want you back. I was an idiot. I don’t want a girlfriend. I want you. I need you,” Sid rambles. Once the floodgates are open he can’t stop, words keep flowing out without conscious thought, until he is finally overcome with emotion and they end in chocking sobs.

“Sid,” Alex murmurs, and then raps his arms around him, pulling him close.

And then Alex is kissing him again, twining his fingers in his hair. God, he loves the way Alex kisses him. Alex becomes his tongue when he kisses Sid, overpowering him, forcing himself inside, inviting, letting Sid back inside him, with the same joyful enthusiasm he has for everything else in his life. Sid belatedly realizes he wants Alex to make love to the rest of his body the way he makes love to his mouth.

Sid growls and sighs; rubbing the length of his body against Alex while they kiss. He twists in Alex’s arms, grinding against him, and before he knows what he’s doing he’s got his arms inside Alex’s jacket and is untucking his shirt enough to slip his hands under the material, palm flat on warm skin, fingers splayed on the other man’s back. It’s Alex’s turn to groan, and he does it again when Sid sucks at the tender skin at the base of his neck.

But when Sid’s hands slide down, his fingers dipping below the waistband, Alex says something that Sid doesn’t catch. He’s not sure if it’s important enough to ask about so he makes a non-committal sound and wiggles his hand lower. Alex slips his own hand down and gently grasps Sid’s wrist to stop him. Sid pulls away a little and looks up.

“Sid. I say, is not safe here,” he repeats patiently.

He says something else, but Sid gets momentarily distracted by the way Alex is smiling at him, and he misses it.

“Sid?” Alex touches his face to get his attention. “I say go to men’s room. Follow me in minute?”

Sid nods assent and reluctantly let’s go. He watches Alex straighten out his clothes and then run his fingers through his hair to tame it, flushes when Alex gives him a smile before sauntering back into the party. Sid picks up his glass and downs the contents while he looks over the blinking lights of Hong Kong. He thinks it’s surely been enough time and follows after the other man.

Alex isn’t in the first men’s room Sid finds. He wanders down a hallway, around a corner, and down another hallway. He’s gotten himself lost, lost track of where he is, and he hasn’t found Alex. He starts to worry. When he gets to the next corner he sees an exit sign and wonders if he should just take the hint and run. Then he sees another sign for a men’s room and keeps going.   
When Sid finds it and goes in he thinks it’s empty too at first but then he notices a tuxedo jacket flung over the stall door.

“Hello?” he says politely, just in case it’s someone who only came here to avoid causing a scene by being sick.

“Lock the door,” Alex’s voice answers.

Sid turns and fumbles with the lock before he gets it twisted the right way. He tests the door from the inside just to make sure and then turns back around. Alex is leaning against the outside of the stall now, arms crossed; shirtsleeves rucked up, with a soft smile on his lips. Sid crosses to him quickly, pressing his lips to Alex’s, tongues that smile until it splits open and he’s licking along the inside.

Sid presses their bodies together, they move together, shift against each other and Sid can feel how hard Alex is. Sid keeps rubbing against him, swivelling his hips and grinding into him until Sid is hard, harder than Alex, harder than ever. Sid is flushed with warmth as blood rushes to his cock and to his face. Alex’s tongue is in his ear and all Sid can hear is his own heavy breathing. He can feel Alex undoing his pants.

“Not here,” he gasps. Sid stills Alex’s hand, has to fight himself not to thrust against where it rests over his cock. “Not like this. It’s been so long.”

Alex chuckles softly. “Is just first time. Just let me take care of you. Shhhhhh.”

Sid’s belly clenches. Alex smiles, gazing steadily into Sid’s eyes as he pulls him into a hug, pressing their cocks together. Even as he closes all space between them, he’s opening himself up, offering himself completely to Sid. Sid’s body jerks and shudders and before he means to, before he wants to, he comes.

He starts to apologize, but Alex hushes him again. “Is okay,” he whispers in his ear, pressing a kiss to his neck before he slips down to his knees.

He unzips Sid, peels his clothing down and takes him out. Holding Sid’s still semi-hard cock carefully, Alex dips his head and begins cleaning it with his tongue until every trace of come is gone before taking Sid into his mouth, suckling him, eyes closed in concentration, with the desire to give him pleasure.

It’s too much, too much and still not enough. Sid’s head falls back, eyes closed, body arching, pushing his hardening cock deeper into Alex’s mouth. His own mouth moves, silently at first, and then the words come out in a whisper, praying, “Alex, oh god Alex, oh my fucking god....”

He looks down again, his fingers stroking Alex’s dark brows, thumb smoothing over a cheekbone. Sid’s hand slides down and nudges the other man’s chin up to tip it up just a little so Sid can watch his face as he sucks. Alex adjusts himself and takes him in further and suddenly Sid can feel his throat constrict and relax, constrict around him, and his knees start to buckle.

Sid reaches up to brace himself with his hands over the edge of the stall. Alex releases Sid’s cock back into his mouth and holds his head still to let Sid fuck him. Using the metal wall for leverage, Sid finds his rhythm, thrusting harder and faster, his cockhead nudging the back of Alex’s throat each time.

The walls seem to be rippling under his clenched hands, and for a moment Sid wonders how much he’s had to drink tonight to make the walls move. When he looks down, he realizes Alex’s head is banging against it with each stroke. Sid reaches down to cradle the back of his head, using his hand to cushion the blows as he keeps slamming into him.

Sid’s so close, so fucking close when Alex twists away to release him entirely. Immediately though, his hands come up to curl around Sid’s cock, holding the head in front of his face, tilting up. Sid watches Alex’s lips form the words as much as he hears the husky murmur;  
“Come, Sid. Is what you want.”

And it kind of is, so he does. Sid’s come splashes onto Alex’s face and runs down his cheek. There’s a glob stuck to his lashes, and Sid feels shattered. He’s never done this before, not with Alex, not with anyone. He thinks he may have wanted to, maybe he dreamt about doing it, but Sid doesn’t think he cried in his dreams. It’s not a dream. It’s happening.

Alex is here with him. Sid has him back. He can touch him again and the realization makes him sob out loud. Alex looks up at him and smiles uncertainly and when Sid returns his gaze, takes in the messed hair, the missing tooth, and the nose bent crooked, he realizes how beautiful he is. There’s no one else that means the same thing to him. He wants, no needs, to tell Alex this but when Sid tries to talk the words come out as more ragged sobs.

“Shhhhh,no,” Alex tells him. “Is okay. Is okay.”

They’re standing again. Alex now looks as shattered as Sid feels and Sid is afraid he’s broken one or the other of them this time. There’s still a ribbon of come on Alex’s chin and Sid reaches out to wipe it away, but Alex captures his hand and kisses the palm. Sid can’t help another sob welling up, and Alex pulls him against him and holds him while he shakes. Sid can feel him running his chin along the top of Sid’s head and the action soothes him until finally he calms enough to look up.

Alex brushes a tear from Sid’s face and kisses him gently on the lips. “Do you need another drink?” he asks softly.

Sid can recognize the haze of alcohol that still surrounds him but he doesn’t think he needs any more right now. He wants instead to be present, as present as Alex is, as present as he always has been. He needs to be able to tell Alex things, tell him how he feels, what he wants.

“No,” Sid tells him. “I’ve had enough.”

He brings Alex close to him, and his body molds to Sid, melting into him. Their arms wind around each other, Alex rests his head on Sid’s shoulder, and the way they sway slightly in the embrace, it’s almost like they are slow dancing. Sid doesn’t think it’s ever being quite like this before and the respite becomes too intimate, almost unbearable.

“Come up to my room?” Sid asks Alex, his voice still hoarse.

The spell is broken. Alex pulls back and gives him a crooked smile. The spell is broken a little when he jokes, “Three times in one night? You think?”

Sid sniffs and then grins back at him. He wipes his nose and they stand looking at each other until Sid realizes Alex is waiting for something, so he gives him his room number. Alex looks ravished, debauched. His clothing is in complete disarray, his hair mussed, his face flushed and there is still traces of dried come clinging to it. He’s still the most attractive man Sid can ever remember seeing.

He leans against the stall and watches Alex splash water on his face and try to tidy up. He adjusts his clothing while he looks in the mirror and then turns to Sid with his eyebrows raised a silent request for confirmation that he looks alright. Sid only nods. When he looks at his own reflection he doesn’t look any better. His lips are swollen and red from kissing and Alex’s stubble and his hair is sticking out in a riot of curls.

Alex gives him one more smile and a gentle kiss before he unlocks the door and slips out. Sid washes his face, tucks in his shirt and zips up. He gives Alex a few more minutes before he leaves as well. The corridor is empty so he’s able to slip unseen to the bank of elevators and make his way down to his floor. He’s getting hard again already. 

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

By the time Alex reaches Sid's room he's has had a chance to shower and pour several tiny bottles of scotch in a glass. His jitters seem to have caused him to fall off the wagon. Sid’s in his complimentary hotel robe, sipping his drink when he answers the door. Alex has changed into jeans and a t-shirt. He’s showered too and it looks like he’s made a bit of an attempt to comb his hair, though it’s still running wild.

“Not watching porn?” Alex tries for a joke, looking over at the sports coverage on television. Despite his light tone he seems subdued, slightly hesitant as if he’s not sure he should be there. He’s not the cheerful, exuberant lover Sid has always known, he’s holding back, and Sid doesn’t like it much even though he can’t blame him. It must be hard when Sid keeps changing the rules.

Sid flushes. He remembers seeing come running down a stubble covered cheek. “I don’t want porn,” he says while he turns off the TV. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” Sid confesses when he turns back to the other man. He’s got a lot more things he wants to say but right now he just needs.....

Alex raises an eyebrow and asks him, “What things you thinking about?”

“Everything,” Sid tells him before leaning in to kiss Alex again. He doesn’t know where to start. All Sid knows is that he needs to make him want to stay, needs Alex here with him tonight, needs to be able to see him whenever he wants. He needs Alex to believe him when he tells him how sorry he is, that he’ll never hurt him again. 

Sid’s tried not having him, going on with his normal life, and it’s not been working. He needs him back. He needs to make him want to come back. Sid thinks he’d do anything to make that happen. 

He pulls Alex down onto the bed with him and his robe falls open. He’s completely hard already but all he wants right now is for Alex to be naked too so he can touch him again. It’s been far, far too long. Sid is frantic for him. He starts pulling impatiently at Alex’s t-shirt, trying to get it off him, until Alex finally starts to laugh.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckles. “Let me get undressed.”

When he’s got his clothes off Alex lies down beside Sid and kisses him thoroughly. Sid almost sighs with relief when he does it. He grabs at Alex, pulling him against him, pressing his fingers into the meat of the other man’s thighs and ass. He’s missed this so fucking much he can’t say. “Fuck,” he grinds out.

Alex is getting hard now too, aroused from the contact, the kissing, the friction between them. Sid guides him over onto his back and leans over him, propped up on his elbows, and wiggles his way to the right position. He reaches for Alex’s cock as he moistens his lips and then bobs up and down on it. He can feel the other man’s cock lengthen and fill out as blood flows to it. 

When Alex is fully hard Sid stops and looks up at him, laying head back, legs spread wide, one arm thrown over his face, eyes shut. He’s heavily muscled still, solid and substantial; his body build sturdy for hard use, scarred by past experiences. Sid runs his eyes down over his lightly haired chest and abdomen to his turgid cock, lying full against his abdomen, ready for sex. Sid can’t stop staring at him. He knows he’ll never see anyone he wants more.

Sid lies down beside him again and runs a hand lightly over his hip and up his ribs. Alex shivers at the light contact and rolls towards Sid, head rested on his elbow, studying him quietly. It’s an unusual moment, halting and tender, neither of them sure of what will happen next.

“Alex,” Sid rasps and then shakes his head in confusion. “Fuck, all the guys on the team just call you Ovechkin, but I can’t. It’s so stupid. I don’t even know what I should call you,” he admits. 

Alex lips twitch in a shy smile. “Alex is fine, Sidney,” he tells him. “Or Sasha. People who.....close, they call me that.” 

Sid smiles back at him. The thought that he’s been given permission to call the other man Sasha makes him feel slightly giddy. That’s what he wants; to be considered close to Alex. He wants Alex to know how important he is to Sid and in return he needs to know he’s important to him too. Sid wants that right, he’s thrilled by the honour, the implied intimacy of being allowed to call him Sasha. 

“Alright, Sasha then,” he agrees, getting used to the sound of it on his tongue. He slides up the bed so they are even and leans over to kiss Alex deeply, urgently. Alex pulls him closer so the two of them are aligned and strokes his hand over both of their cocks. Sid is leaking already and the moisture slicks Alex’s movements over the sensitive skin.

It feels amazing and Sid starts thrusting into Alex’s fist, rocking back and forth, but he realizes he wants more. This time, after so long, he needs more. Sid hears the words outside himself when he says, “Sasha, please, fuck me.”

Alex opens his eyes and looks uncertain, probably not sure what he heard. He doesn’t look like he believes it anyway. He makes no response at all, just stares at Sid, his mouth partially open in apparent surprise. 

Sid takes a deep breath and starts again. “Alex, Sasha, I want, I’d really like it if you would fuck me,” he repeats.

“Really? You sure?” Alex asks, his voice calm except for a slight tremor.

The expression on Alex’s face is almost comical except that Sid is in no mood for laughing at the moment. Instead of saying any more his just smiles and nods and Alex’s breath hitches.

“Alright,” Alex nods solemnly. 

He sits up and leans over Sid’s body without contact, and kisses him. He slides down next to Sid, kissing and caressing him all over, easing him onto his stomach. Sid feels the bed shift beneath him and turns his head to watch Alex reach for the small tube next to Sid’s watch on the nightstand. He has a short flight of nerves but calms himself. This is exactly what he wants. 

Sid closes his eyes as Ovechkin rubs his back soothingly, feels his breath warm against his neck, a tender kiss pressed there. And then Alex is gently spreading him open, squeezing out a dollop of lube, massaging it in, slick fingertip gently probing, worming its way inside of Sid, making him moan into the pillow.

It feels strange to be breached. Sid had never realized how sensitive he was there until Alex had taken him apart that time with his tongue. Having a finger inside is more intense, more substantial, but it doesn’t really hurt. Sid has a high pain threshold anyway. He quickly becomes accustomed to the intrusion. His cock is trapped beneath him and Sid rocks forward, rubbing it against the bed and then thrusting back farther on Alex’s finger.

Alex’s finger is deep inside him now and Sid can’t imagine how he’s going to get his cock in because one finger is filling him enough. For a moment he’s almost overwhelmed with how his body responds to the contact, feels the blood rushing through his body, his body contracting as if encouraging him to move, to touch him more. Sid pushes his hips down, his insides clenched around the finger as Alex moves it carefully and the reward is immediate; he shudders within and every muscle trembled in pleasure.

As Alex brushes his finger purposely over Sid’s prostate he arches his back and gasps, “Oh, fuck,” and bucks his cock into the mattress again. Now Sid finally knows what the attraction is, what he’s been doing all this time to Alex without even knowing how great it was. It explains a lot. It gives Sid a sense of power he didn’t know he had. 

“Yeah, there,” Alex says, and Sid can hear the smile in his voice. “Is good?”

“Jesus Christ,” Sid swears. “Is it always like this?”

Alex doesn’t say anything. Instead he gives another delirious nudge and asks, “Little more?” 

Sid can’t help but moan, “Yes,” while he rocks his hips again. 

He can feel a second finger, feels Alex opening him up more, doesn’t know how many fingers are inside him, corkscrewing as they slide in and out. When Sid starts moving with the finger strokes, pushing back, muscles finally relaxing, Alex withdraws. Sid lays his head down on the pillow, wills himself to relax and prepares for what he knows will come next.

At first Sid doesn’t realize what Alex has said and he has to lift his head to look over his shoulder and see what it is that he wants.

“Sid, turn over? Turn on your back? Okay?” he asks quietly.

“Um, okay?” Sid agrees, willing enough but just not sure of the mechanics.

“Is sometimes easier on stomach, at first, but now for me I like, I would like on back....” Alex tells him solemnly.

His eyes are slightly downcast when he adds, “I know you prolly not want to look at me....,” he pauses before continuing, “Only it help for me to look at you.” Alex tries for a light tone, but Sid catches a flicker beneath the self-depreciation.

There is something so raw in his expression that it makes Sid shiver. He rolls onto his back and then sits up. He frowns in confusion and shakes his head no, “I....., what do you mean?” he demands. He’s not at all sure where this is coming from.

Alex looks right at him, “Maybe so you think someone else........Girl,” he finally shrugs.

Sid is aghast. It’s never been like that. “It’s not that, I like looking at you,” Sid stumbles. “Alex, a lot,” he insists.

Ovechkin drops his eyes again, “It made you cry.”

“Alex,” Sid breathes. But he can’t finish, can barely even start the sentence. “I don’t...” He stops again, rolls onto his side, half-sits up. “That’s not it at all. That’s never been it. Really,” he says. Alex’s face is still looking down, his whole face downturned and Sid reaches across and puts a hand on his chin, turns his head so the other man is looking at him again. Sid strokes the angle of his jaw with his thumb.

“That’s not why,” Sid tries again. “I love....I really, really like to look at you,” he tells Alex. He can feel himself blushing at the admission. It’s not the kind of things guys normally say at all. It feels strange. Sid never says shit like this to girls.

Alex nods but he’s still doesn’t raise his eyes. “Alex,” Sid says insistently, and now he finally looks up. Their eyes meet and Sid’s mouth curves into a faint smile. His fingertips caress Alex’s face. “I think you’re beautiful,” he tells him, meaning every word of in.

Alex snorts at that. Sid knows what he thinks of his face, how it’s not meant for commercials. It’s a hockey player’s face and he’s earned every scar and bump on his nose, every loose or missing tooth. Sid wouldn’t want it any other way. Finally Alex gives him a tentative smile and leans over to kiss him.

Sid falls back, pulling Alex back down on top of him, splaying his legs apart so that the other man can settle between his thighs. He can feel Alex’s cock pressing against his thigh and he rubs against it and they both moan.

“Okay. So I want this,” Sid tells him, staring up into his eyes, trust implicit. “Show me what to do.”

Alex nods solemnly as he looks down at Sid. He sits back on his heels and reaches for the condom and lube, gets himself ready. He watches Sid with hooded eyes while he coats lube over himself and give a couple strokes. Finally he brushes his hair back out of his eyes with the back of a hand and gets between Sid’s legs.

Alex lifts Sid’s legs, positions him, asks him if he’s comfortable, and Sid nods. He adds another coat to his fingers, reinserts them, watching Sid’s face. Sid closes his eyes, enjoying the sensations, the strange slick friction, back and forth, in and out. He starts to moan in protest when the fingers withdraw but immediately feels Alex’s cockhead resting against his entrance, and the quality of the moan alters. 

Alex asks him if he’s sure, if he’s ready. Sid just nods again, and Alex enters him, pushing slowly until he’s all the way inside, and Sid’s teeth press together tightly. He closes his eyes, wishes for darkness, the pain makes everything too bright. Alex pulls out and Sid opens his eyes, grunts but he’s only slathering on more lube. He leans over to kiss Sid as he enters him again, tongue and cock sliding in simultaneously. Sid’s breathing shallows as Alex starts to move inside him.

Alex smoothes a hand down his thigh and murmurs, “Relax. You have to relax Sid, or not feel good.”

Alex coils his fingers around Sid’s cock, fondling him. “Let me make good.”

The touch, the words transmute to a pleasure that enters and ripples through Sid, melting him. Alex caresses and kisses him again, shifting back to reposition himself, finding a new angle of entry, going slowly, with such small movements...until Sid relaxes and starts to move with him, pleasure swelling, and Alex wraps Sid’s legs around his waist, and drives into him. 

Sid watches Alex’s face, looks down the length of his body to watch him pumping, his cock sliding in and out of Sid. Alex’s jaw is set with concentration, with the effort needed to restrain himself. Although Sid could feel trapped, vulnerable in his position, he doesn’t. He feels only complete trust.

There’s no pain anymore, Sid feels filled, content, as if an emptiness he never knew he had is now filled, and he never wants to feel empty again. Sid realizes this is the final step. He’s crossed an invisible line with what they’re doing tonight. He’s having a sexual relationship with another man and he’s overwhelmed at how good it feels. 

It’s not making out, it’s not fooling around, there’s no way it can be excused as anything else but what it is. Alex is inside him, holding him, kissing his neck and Sid had never felt so close, so connected to anyone in his life, has never experienced anything more intimate that what they’re doing. It’s not just sex, it’s being close, revealing feeling they haven’t said with words. Sid realizes that for the first time, probably ever, he’s making love with someone. When Alex moves again Sid loses his breath, his head spins and all thoughts disappear.

“Tell me when,” Alex grits out, “When ready to come.”

Sid tells him, practically begging, “Don’t stop, don’t ever stop, oh fuck Alex, don’t stop, it feels so good,” his voice as ragged as his breath.

Sid begins to rock his hips towards Alex, meeting his thrusts and Alex doesn’t stop him. He welcomes each shove. Sid hears his breathing intensify, hears it become a mix of pants and low throaty moans each time their hips meet. They are both coated with sweat and Sid slips his hand between them. He needs to be masturbated, has to be touched, his erection leaking onto his stomach, and it throbs so insistently he’s afraid he’ll pass out on release. He groans and his whole body jerks as his hand makes contact for a second before being pulled away. 

“I do it,” Alex tells him.

“Then fucking do it,” Sid growls in desperation, becoming frantic for release. He’s just about ready to engage in a physical fight over the matter, although he can’t help but smile at his own distress and then snort in amusement and triumph when he hears Alex’s low laugh change to a groan when Sid thrusts back at him.

Alex keeps thrusting into him, head down, and Sid gives up, admitting an odd defeat, and simply lies there, gasping and surrendering to the jolts that shoot through him with constantly being filled. He has no more energy to try harder, can’t move anymore, can’t try when it doesn’t lead to anything but greater yearning, it will never end. He wraps his legs more tightly around Alex, lifts hips, and accepts each thrust with a loud moan, uncaring if anyone else in the hotel hears him. He nearly sobs in gratitude when Alex’s hand finally wraps around his leaking cock and starts stroking it in time with his thrusts.

Sid’s world blackens, his body clasps at Alex, shakes and trembles as waves of built-up pleasure are released. He gasps, moves, stays still as semen shoots up his stomach. Each time his body starts to relax, Alex moves and another surge of orgasm is released from somewhere deep within. Sid’s entire body comes. If he hadn’t been lying flat on his back he would certainly have collapsed. Sid feels Alex move once more, hears him succumb and feels his body quiver inside and all around him, sending a last rush of weak spasms through him.

After regaining some degree of consciousness, Sid drops his legs back down, and Alex lays over him, Sid’s arms wrapped around him, his head bowed on Sid’s shoulder. They’re both breathless, struggling to return to normal, both feeling drained and fighting the exhaustion now claiming the place of their spent desire. 

“You okay,” Alex asks him quietly, eventually breaking the silence.

“Yeah,” Sid can barely nod.

“Was good?” He places a weak kiss on Sid’s shoulder.

“Hmmm,” Sid agrees, still trying to recover his breath. The question is rhetorical anyway and probably the understatement of the year. Sid doesn’t even have to think about it to know that this was the hardest he’s ever come in his life. 

Sid lays there, watches Alex wiping come from his fingers onto the sheets, wiping a strand of come off his chest, and he wants to pull him close and hold him like that all night. He wants to whisper things to him, secrets, his most intimate thoughts, about his feelings.

He doesn’t remember it ever being like this before, there’s definitely “more” to tonight, he wants to hold Alex all night. Keep him with him. Watching Alex- like this and thinking about him, makes Sid feel a little dizzy so he closes his eyes for a moment, just for a second, it’s only a long blink, he’s going to open them again....

The events of the past few days catch up with him. The sleepless night spent on the plane, the game, Sid’s nervous excitement about seeing Alex again, worrying about what will happen, the alcohol, even the sex, all hit him at once. Though there are things he needs to say, they need to talk about, Sid falls asleep holding Alex.

When Sid wakes up the lights in the room have been turned off. There is soft light coming from the bathroom illuminating part of the room. He hears Alex moving around quietly, getting ready to leave. He can feign sleep and just let Alex go, knowing that sooner or later there will be another next time, after another night out with the teams, after a game, maybe in another men’s room.....

Or he can say Alex’s name, bring him back into his bed, fall asleep next to him – for a change – wake up next to him. They can talk about these things, what Sid’s discovered tonight, and in the months they’ve been apart, these things that Sid is still trying to work out in his mind. He doesn’t really have a plan yet, he doesn’t know where Alex is going to fit in his life yet. But he does know he needs to be there.

Alex is moving across the floor, going for the door now. Sid doesn’t have much time for his decision. In a moment he will be gone. And though there will surely be a next time, Sid knows he’ll probably be drunk again, will probably need the haze more than ever after what he’s realized tonight. Either he can accept this thing with Alex, accept Alex and tell him, accept himself; or he can be so drunk the next time he won’t remember.

Hand on the doorknob, Alex looks back at the bed to see if it’s safe to open the door. Light is seeping into the room from the lit bathroom, turned on so Alex could find his things, there’s must enough for their eyes to meet. If Sid doesn’t say anything now, the moment will be lost, Alex will be gone.

In the time it takes Sid to think this, the door is already shutting behind Alex as he leaves. As the door closes Sid misses him immediately. He silently berates himself for not saying something, for not making Alex stay. Laying there in his hotel room, alone, Sid realizes he is so in love he doesn’t know what to do.

 

******************

 

Sid doesn’t talk to Alex the next day. He sleeps late and begs off his morning appearances saying he’s caught the flu and can’t keep anything down. It is so out of character that everyone believes him and they leave him alone. He showers and climbs back in bed, staying there all afternoon. His body hurts in a way he’s not accustomed to, muscles burn when he tightens them, not unpleasantly. He gingerly wipes himself, looking for blood when he’s in the shower, but there is none.

Sid needs some time to think, he needs to face the fact that he is probably gay. Okay, cut the shit, Sidney, there’s no probably in there. Only gay men let other men fuck them. As many times as he’s fucked woman, let’s be honest, Alex fucking him was completely different. When Geno calls to see if Sid wants to go out for dinner he tells him he’s still sick.

They fly back to North America the following day and Sid uncharacteristically sleeps late. The time difference has completely messed him up. He has to rush to pack up, get his passport and ticket in order, and catch a cab the airport. Luckily the ride is uneventful and Sid gets checked in and through security just as his flight is called. Sid reaches his gate just as the last of the passengers are loading and follows them down the jetway, glancing at his ticket for his seat assignment. 

Sid assumes he’ll be sitting with Geno again on the way back but they’d never discussed the arrangement. League officials had arranged the travel details and emailed then to the players in advance. When he enters the first class compartment Sid sees a few familiar faces but no Geno. Sid finds his row and is surprised to see Alex sitting in the seat next to his. Well, he’s kind of in both seats. He’s left his bag on the empty seat next to him while he reads a magazine and sips a beer.

Alex seems as surprised as Sid is and quickly pulls his bag back into his own area. Sid puts his coat in the overhead compartment and tucks his carry-on under the seat in front. Then he sits down and stares straight ahead, conscious of all the players sitting in the seats around them. He can feel his face begin to flush with just the thought that someone might know.

When he glances at Alex he nods hello and Sid tips his head in reply. He takes the safety card out of the pocket and glances over it while they finish boarding. He bends down to get his water bottle out of his carry on and raps his forehead on the tray. This draws a guffaw from Ryan Kessler who’s sitting across the aisle from him. Sid gives the Canuck a sour look and arranges his water in the pocket where he likes it. He starts flipping through the In Flight magazine and tries to salvage his wounded pride.

After a couple minutes Sid feels a nudge on his arm. When he quickly glances at Alex he murmurs, “You want me to sit somewhere else?”  
Sid shakes his head no but doesn’t look at him. He keeps his eyes forward and his hands folded in his lap.

“You need drink, Sid?” Alex asks quietly, nodding at the beer he’s holding. He cranes his neck, raising out of his seat slightly, looking for the flight attendant. “Here, I get you one if you want.”

“Sit down,” Sid hisses, still looking ahead.

“Just to relax,” Alex soothes. “Everyone getting them. For takeoff, I mean.”

“I said no,” Sid snaps at him, again conscious of the players surrounding them. Everyone seems to be reading or playing their video games though, no one is watching the two of them. 

Alex settles back into his seat and looks away, his mouth tight. 

Sid closes his eyes and sighs, sorry that he was so abrupt, knowing he’s being an asshole. He opens his eyes. Alex is leaning against the window, forehead pressed to it as he stares out at the runway, light and shadow playing across his face. 

Alex sits back when they begin to taxi down the runway. Sid looks ahead as well and there is an almost imperceptible bump when they leave the ground. He shuts his eyes and the force pulls him back into his seat and the plane inclines. The flight crew start bustling around, getting drinks and preparing for a meal and Sid watches as Alex pulls out a pen and a crossword puzzle book from the seat pocket in front of him and stares at the page.

Sid watches as he writes something in the margin and then tilts the magazine so he can read it, nudges Sid gently to get his attention. It says, “Are you okay?”

He’s spelled it out because he knows phonetic abbreviations annoy Sid. Sid looks down at the page, nods curtly, and turns away. Alex takes the magazine back, hesitates, then writes, “Did I hurt you last night?”

Sid’s brows knit when he reads it, and he looks up sharply at Alex. His mouth starts open, but then he shuts it, shakes his head, looks away again. Alex scribbles out his note, rubbing hard to black out the words completely, his knuckles white with effort. He puts the magazine away and takes out his iPod, putting in his earphones and then looking out the window again.

Sid takes only water when the steward comes by and Alex just shakes his head no thanks when they ask him and then tilts his seat back and shuts his eyes. They don’t even give him a meal, thinking he is asleep, and Sid eats his own food although his stomach is churning and he can barely taste it. When he’s done and they’ve taken his tray, Sid plugs in his earphones and watches a movie. 

The cabin crew finish up after the meal and dim the lights. Some passengers are trying to sleep while others read or watch movies. Sid glances across at Alex and sees his eyes are shut although he can hear music playing faintly through his iPhone. He wonders if he should take it from him and turn it off. Instead he accepts a blanket and pillow from the steward and smoothes it over himself and then as an afterthought drags it across Alex as well.

The other man doesn’t move, doesn’t stir, when Sid covers him. He must be asleep. Sid’s relieved. It means he doesn’t have to try to talk. He’s been sitting here, wanting to say something, but can’t think of a single word. He slides the arm up so that there’s nothing between the two of them and although he feels exposed, even though they are covered by blankets, he slides his leg closer so he can feel Alex against him. Sid glances across and sees Alex’s chest rising and falling slowly, breathing slowly and deeply, his eyes still shut. 

Sid sits there, looking straight ahead, and slips his hand over towards where he knows Alex’s is resting on his lap. He finds a warm wrist and rests his palm against it, feeling his pulse point. He expects a slow steady rhythm as for someone who’s sleeping. Instead Sid inhales sharply in surprise. Alex’s heart is racing. 

Sid pauses for a minute and then makes up his mind. He slips his hand a little farther and finds Alex’s hand, intertwining their fingers and giving them a squeeze. Sid watches Alex, he doesn’t open his eyes, but the corners of his lips lift slightly and he squeezes Sid’s hand back. It’s small and fragile but it’s what Sid needs, what they both need. 

Slowly, Sid allows himself to relax, to lean slightly towards Alex, and Alex shifts a little, giving Sid somewhere to lean, to rest his head. Sid feels Alex put his other hand on top of both there’s and just leave it there, holding them together. The cabin is dark now, their bulk indistinct under the single blanket. Almost everyone has turned off their movies and reading lights. Sid falls asleep with his head resting on Alex’s shoulder.

The next morning Alex is already awake when Sid wakes up with drool running down the side of his face. He wakes disoriented, taking a moment to realize he’s on a plane. He comes to with a start and pulls himself upright, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Alex smiles at him softly and mouths, “Morning.”

Sid smiles at him but says nothing. In the light of day it’s more difficult. There are team mates all around them, waking up, walking up and down the aisle to the bathroom. Sid can smell breakfast being prepared in the galley and the cabin lights are coming back on. Alex gives his hand a last squeeze and then allows Sid to pull it back to his lap. 

Sid starts to laugh when he notices the puddle of drool on Alex’s shoulder and the other man slaps him on the arm.

“Crosby,” he laughs, “Look at my shirt. Jesus. God.”

Some of the other players join in and they rib Sid about what an unattractive sleeper he is. He takes it in good stride. It’s not like Alex is much better. His hair is sticking out in all directions and his eyes are puffy. It does break the ice though and they chat casually while they eat breakfast, joking with the guys around them.

Afterwards they take turn squeezing into the bathroom, trying to wash up and smooth their hair down, make themselves presentable to disembark. It’s not very successful. They watch another movie while the plane approaches North America. Finally, the flight attendant puts her hand on Sid’s shoulder and tells him he needs to return his seat to the upright position and they descend into LA.

All too soon Sid they are on the ground and walking off the plane, up the jetway and into the terminal. And they are not alone anymore, and it’s not the place or time for talking. They are still with each other, next to each other, through customs and immigration they are still pretty much together, and Sid starts to feel anxious about coming to the end. Sid will be flying to Pittsburgh and Alex will be getting on a plane for Washington, DC. They need to find their gates.

He wonders what he could say to get Alex to stay with him longer, because he needs to talk to him. He wonders if Alex has time to maybe go get a coffee or maybe something else to eat before the next flight. Before he can come up with the right words they are in the concourse and Alex is, pulling out his next ticket, figuring out where he needs to go. It’s almost time to say goodbye.

It turns out their gates are in the same direction so they walk companionably down the hallway with their carry-ons. Sid reaches his gate first and he pulls up, preparing to say goodbye even though it’s the last thing he wants to do. He hears himself say the words and Alex nods at him, and says good bye too. 

Alex turns to continue to his gate and Sid watches him take a step or two before he calls him. “Alex,” he says. It comes out in an embarrassing squeak and Sid has to clear his throat. 

Alex stops and turns, and Sid crosses to him, tilts his head. He doesn’t know how to ask what he needs to know, but Alex is looking at him, waiting for him to speak. 

“On the plane,” Sid starts, then falters. Closes his mouth, keeps looking at Alex who keeps looking back at him, and Sid wonders how long a moment can stretch before it snaps.

Then Alex is looking past him and Sid turns too, and sees a man approaching them along with his son. It looks like they’ve been recognized, or at least Sid has. The boy is grinning from ear to ear.

“Are you Sidney Crosby,” he asks and Sid has no choice but to smile back and saying, “Yes, I am.”

Alex smiles at Sid and shrugs and then his eyes slide away towards his gate and Sid knows he’s going to go; they aren’t going to have a chance to talk after all.

“Okay,” Alex says. “I see you Sid. Talk to you soon.”

Sid feels like his heart is breaking but all he can do is chat with the boy and sign his magazine and then those of a few other people who gather around him. When they are all done, when everyone has what they want, he sits at his gate and waits for his flight, thinking about Alex the whole time.


	11. Chapter 11

Sid goes home and wanders around his house, not sure what to do with himself. He showers and then puts on a movie but he can’t concentrate on the plot. He pulls out his phone and tries to call Alex but it just goes to voice mail. Sid calls his parents and tells them he’s back and they chat a little about the All Star game. Sid’s dad is thrilled with his goal. Sid writes Alex a short text, telling him he’s thinking about him, and sends it off before he can change his mind and then goes to bed. He’s disappointed when he sees it’s not been returned when he gets up the next morning.

Sid calls Alex again, this time leaving him a rambling message that doesn’t really say anything except that he misses him and asks him to call. He tries not to sound like he’s pleading. He makes himself a protein shake and gets ready to go to the rink. It’s not until he gets there and is putting on his gear in the dressing room that he finds out what’s happened with Alex.

Geno takes a phone call while Sid is lacing up his skates. It goes on for a couple minutes and is entirely in Russian. Although no one can understand they can tell from the urgency of Geno’s voice that something isn’t right. The players all stop what they are doing and watch him until he’s done, all conversation halted. When he hangs up Geno looks around the room, just then realizing everyone has been listening to him. Then his eyes flick immediately towards Sid and he gets a sinking feeling.

“What’s going on, Geno?” Sid asks, although he’s not entirely sure he wants to know. “Who was that?”

“Is Sasha,” Geno explains. “He phone to tell me Alex fly back to Russia. His father sick.”

“What happened?” Sid finds himself asking, his voice calm.

Geno searches a moment for the words. “He have heart attack,” he tells him. It’s not nearly enough information and when Geno goes back to lacing his skates it’s all Sid can do not to smack him.

“Well, is he alright,” Sid insists, his heart sinking. He knows how much Alex worships his parents. “What exactly did Semin tell you?”

Geno looks up at him again, this time with more sympathy, but he just shrugs and then lets out a breath. “Sorry, Sid. Don’t know. Sasha just say Alex will call when he get there and finds out. He just get first plane he could and go.”

Sid nods. No wonder Alex hadn’t called him back. He was probably on another plane already flying to Moscow when Sid had been phoning.

The team has a lacklustre practise, everyone distracted and saddened about the news about Alex’s dad. The coach finally gives up on them and sends them home, telling them he wants everyone at optional skate in the morning and ready to focus. They have three home games coming up and he wants them prepared.

The next day Sid approaches Geno as soon as he gets to the rink, wanting any news. Geno just shakes his head. He’s heard from Sasha but the other Russian has no further news from home. He’s not heard from Alex yet. Everyone is trying to hope for the best. When Sid turns to get changed, Geno puts his hand on his arm to stop him.

“Don’t worry Sid,” he tells him. “Ovie phone you when he get chance. He just have things to do right now.”

“I know that,” Sid tells him, trying not to sound irritable. “Look. Sorry. It’s not that. I’ve just been thinking about them a lot. I hope his dad’s okay.”

Geno nods at him and smiled. “Is okay, Sid. I tell you soon as I hear.”

“Thanks,” Sid tells him.

The Penguins win two and lose one at home and then head west for a grueling six game road trip. It’s after they arrive in Anaheim that Geno finally comes to Sid and tells him that Alex has called. His father is doing alright. He had to have bypass surgery but he’s pulled through and is recovering in hospital. Semin has told Geno that Alex will be staying a few more days just to make sure all is well and then will be flying back to North America. He doesn’t want to miss too much of the season even though the Caps are doing alright without him. They haven’t lost since he left.

Sid does his best to focus on hockey but his thoughts are often on Alex and his family. The team struggles a little, first losing to the Ducks and then the Kings. They finally rally and win a game against the San Jose Sharks but then are soundly beaten by the Canucks in a 7 – 1 defeat that is unfortunately showcased on Hockey Night In Canada. When Sid gets back to the dressing room after the game he breaks his stick over a bench in frustration.

His hissy fit shakes up the team a little. They fly out of Vancouver determined to play better. They have a good practice the next morning and then manage to scrape by Calgary 2 -1. Two nights later they beat Edmonton more convincingly with a score of 5 - 2. The critics though are quick to note that Sid hasn’t scored since his return from the All Star game and has been kept to two assists. It’s Geno and Jordie who are keeping them afloat.

Sid finally scores a goal in a 3 – 2 loss against Winnipeg and it is such a relief that he almost doesn’t care that they lose the game in a shootout. He’s a superstitious person, all hockey players are, and slumps like this prey on the confidence. They are all glad to head home to Pittsburgh. A few of the guys are playing hurt and they all hope a couple days off will be what they need. Anyway, they need to pull it together; the Caps are coming to town on the weekend.

Sid is lying on his couch the next morning moodily watching sports network with an ice pack on his knee and wondering if he should drive in to see the trainers when Geno calls. He’s heard from Semin again. Alex’s dad has been allowed to go home from hospital and Alex is taking a flight back that night. He’s definitely going to there for the game with Pittsburgh.

Sid waits another day before he calls Alex. He can barely stand it. Fortunately Alex picks up after only two rings and Sid is instantly weak with relief when he hears his voice. He’s mildly surprised when he realizes he has tears in his eyes.

“Alex,” he chokes out, “how are you?”

Alex lets out a long sigh before he answers and his voice is flat. He sounds exhausted. “Sid. I’m okay. Just tired. Long flight, you know.”

“And your dad?”

“Is okay. Have surgery. Was......pretty serious. Was all worried bout him. But he do okay. Much better now.” He lets out a weary chuckle and then adds, “Is not so happy. New food. Change everything. No butter on perogies. No sour cream. No vodka. My mother do everything right. Dad real......grouchy now. Complains all time. Was good to leave.”

“Well, he needs to eat healthier, I guess,” Sid says.

Alex laughs a bit and tells him, “What doctors tell him. Is not sure. Say life not worth living.”

Sid smiles when he hears the laugher in Alex’s voice. He pauses a minute and lets the silence run on and then finally clears his throat and tells Alex,” I missed you.”

“Yeah, Sid, I miss you too. Sorry I go without calling. Happen so fast I don’t have time. Was bad.”

“It’s fine, Alex. I understand. I saw Geno the next day and he told me.”

“Good. Told Sasha to tell everyone.”

“I’m just glad he’s alright,” Sid tells him. “When are you coming up for the game?”

“I don’t know yet, Sid. Not talked to team. Just come home and go to bed, you know? I call as soon as I know.”

“Sure,” Sid assures him, trying to appear casual about it. He doesn’t want to sound pushy or demanding or even worse, needy. He suspects he’s not very successful. Even in his exhausted state Alex can tell Sid’s anxious about something.

“You okay?” Alex asks him.

It’s Sid’s turn to sigh. “Yeah. It’s just I missed you. And I’ve been thinking a lot. And I really want to see you again and talk,” he forces himself get out.

Alex lets out a long breath. Sid can hear it over the phone and it takes him a moment to speak again. “Yeah, Sid. Want to talk to you too.”

He sounds profoundly tired, and more than that, slightly ill at ease, and Sid finds that the hairs on the back of his neck are starting to stand up. Alex sounds so, so very serious and so different than how he normally does that Sid’s stomach churns as he wonders what he has to say to him.

They talk a couple more minutes but Sid knows he’s got to let him go so he can some sleep. Alex is slurring his words and dropping off mid-sentence and Sid finally takes pity on him and tells him to go to bed. As much as he wants to keep Alex on the line Sid knows he’ll see him on the weekend.

Saturday rolls around and Sid is disappointed when he hears the Caps won’t be flying in until the morning of the game. To make matters worse it’s also Semin’s birthday that night so the whole team will be going to a club to celebrate afterwards. The Penguins are all invited, including Sid, and he knows he has no choice but to go even though he and Semin are not the best of friends. It is, after all, his opportunity to see Alex. He just wishes there was a way he could see him alone.

At least the game is a good one. Both teams play well and the Caps let up on Sid enough so that he manages to get a pretty goal in the second period that brings the Penguins within one. The Caps put it away with two unanswered goals in the third but the game is a lot closer than the score would indicate.

Sid, Jordie, Flower, Letang, and Geno shower after the game, get changed and take a limo to the club. The party is in full swing when they get there with Alex and Semin surrounded by a boisterous crowd in a large booth. The Penguins players join in and immediately start working on catching up. There are bottles of vodka and shot glasses on the table in front of Sasha and the guys help themselves. Sid accepts a glass from Geno and downs a quick shot.

There are a couple guys Sid doesn’t know but who he’s pretty sure are Russian judging by the obligatory gold chains and slightly tacky Euro-trash outfits they are sporting. They are sticking pretty close to Semin and Geno seems to know them; at least the three of them nod and then exchange pleasantries in Russian.

Alex is sitting on the other side of Semin with his arm thrown loosely over his shoulder and is saying something to him in Russian. He’s smiling and laughing and seeing the two of them like that hits Sid in the gut even though he knows for a certainty that they are just friends. When Alex notices Sid he immediately gets up and pulls him into an easy hug. Sid wraps his arms around Alex, rests his head on his shoulder and inhales his familiar scent. He hangs on tight, probably a bit too long for appearances.

They pull apart and Alex slides back in beside Sasha, elbows him good naturedly so he’ll slide over and make room and then pulls Sid down beside him. It’s pretty cozy and Sid has to press close against Alex to stay perched on his edge of the seat. He flushes slightly when Alex wraps his arm around his shoulder and pulls him in closer. He feels himself tense at the public contact initially and then decides ‘what the fuck’.

Sitting beside Alex, pressed against him, in the company of their friends, Sid feels like he’s where he belongs. The guys joke around, chirp each other about the game, let loose and have a few drinks, and Sid feels like all is right in his life. When he feels Alex put a hand down on his thigh he doesn’t think much of it, only leans into the touch. Alex pours a round of shots and Sid has another one.

Everyone gets louder as the vodka kicks in. They start giving Sasha birthday kisses, hugging him, taking pictures with their phones to send home to friends and family. Semin’s friends from home pull out their cameras and Geno and Sasha mug for them. It’s a birthday celebration, they are all far from home, and they make the most of it. Valery Krylov collapses onto Salender’s lap and wraps his arms around him while Geno photographs the two of them.

Alex pulls Sid in still closer and plants a kiss on his cheek and they laugh along with the rest of the guys. They’re momentarily blinded by the flash from one of the cameras. Alex nuzzles in and presses his lips to Sid’s neck and he almost moans at the sensation. It’s about then that it dawns on Sid that maybe they shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be acting like this when they’re out, even if it’s with the guys and they’re all drunk.

No one seems to mind though, no one’s noticed or said anything but Sid pulls away a little and Alex laughs and slides his hand farther up his leg and squeezes. Even though it feels fucking good Sid has a shiver of anxiety and can feel the first hint of a panic attack coming on. He pushes away Alex’s hand and wiggles out of the booth. He’s working on being drunk, but he’s not there yet. Sid suspects Alex must be quite a bit farther along to think it’s a good idea to grope him while they’re in a bar.

Sid winds his way to the restroom, thankful that the bar is dimly lit. It’s not likely that the other patrons can easily see what’s happening or recognize who they are. When he glances back at the booth he can barely make anyone out himself. When he gets in the restroom he splashes cold water over his face and looks at himself in the mirror. He looks flushed and a little wild eyed and he takes a couple deep breaths before he heads back out. He needs to talk to Alex but first he needs to calm himself down.

Sid finds an empty booth in the corner and sits down. He leans back and wills himself to calm down, takes in a deep breath, lets it out and then does it again, trying to clear his thoughts. The music is loud and he can feel his head beginning to pound to the beat. He’s only been there a couple minutes when Alex finds him and sits down across the table. He looks a lot more sober than he did back in the booth with Sasha. In fact, the look he’s giving Sid is uncharacteristically serious.

“You okay?” Alex finally asks him gently.

Sid nods. “Yeah. It’s just....... Sometimes I get kind of......” he shrugs helplessly. “It’s something that happens once in a while. It’s going away now.”

He’s never really talked about his anxiety attacks with Alex. They are something only a few people on his team are aware of and Sid plans to keep it that way. They make him feel weak and out of control. He’s vaguely ashamed that he still has them, keeps hoping that he’ll out grow them, get past them at some point.

“You need something to drink?” Alex asks him.

“No. No more to drink,” Sid answers quickly. “That’s the point. We should be more careful. I don’t think it’s a good idea to get so carried away. I mean, out in public. Someone might see. It could get out.”

Alex regards him a minute and then nods thoughtfully. He clasps his hands together on the table in front of him and stares down at them. He’s biting at his lower lip nervously and his brows are knit in concentration. Sid doesn’t think he can ever remember seeing Alex so deep in thought. It’s not like him at all.

Finally Alex looks up and asks,” Sid, what are we gonna do?”

Sid only stares at him, not sure what to say. Finally he asks, “What do you mean?”

Alex lets out a sigh and looks away, unwilling to meet Sid’s eyes. “You and me,” he explains slowly, as if Sid is having a hard time keeping up, “what are we gonna do? Is sometimes hard in English to say what I want. Sorry.”

Sid swallows and thinks and discards everything that comes to mind as not being the right thing. “Alex, I’m not sure....” Sid starts before Alex interrupts him by shaking his head. He pauses a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then determinedly begins.

“Is good we talk about this. Is time. Sid, I been thinking a lot. Thinking bout you. When I go home to Russia, I sit with my mom. We have lots time waiting at hospital. We talk bout things.” He sighs and picks at something stuck on the table in front of him with a thumbnail. “I tell her about you,” he tells Sid, looking up at him levelly.

“What?” Sid can’t help but choke. “What did you say?”

Alex shrugs, “Everything, Sid. I tell her I like men. And I tell her.....tell her bout you. How you are......special for me. How want to be with you.”

Despite the pleasure Sid feels at the words he feels a dull panic welling up from within. “Why? Why did you tell her about me?” Sid asks, aghast. His first instinct is to be angry at Alex.

Alex shrugs but continues to look Sid in the eye. “Is important to me, Sid. She’s my mom. Important what she thinks. Is not easy, specially in Russia. I want to know....” he pauses and fiddles with his watch, “Want to know how she feels. What she thinks I should do.” He looks up and again Sid can see how nervous he is. “Is hard,” Alex admits tightly.

“What did she say?” Sid asks tightly. “What did your mother tell you?”

Alex smiles faintly and shakes his head bemusedly. When he looks up his face completely open and unguarded. He tells Sid, “She say to me, life is short, Sasha. Look at your father. Your brother. Things happen. Before you know it, people are gone. Be with the one you love.”

Sid feels like he’s falling when he hears Alex say the words and the emotion must be apparent on his face because Alex reaches for his hand and holds on to it, and it feels like it’s the only thing keeping Sid down, anchoring him in the room.

“But Sid, you got to be honest. No more girlfriend. ” Alex tells him firmly.

Sid shrugs dismissively. He already knows he doesn’t want to be with Christine. But Alex’s next words aren’t so easy to live with.

“Don’t want to hide all the time,” Alex tells him firmly. “Is too hard.”

“People would find out,” Sid squeaks and he’s embarrassed how panic stricken he sounds. He doesn’t know why Alex isn’t freaking out over the idea.

“Sid, team know already,” he says, shaking his head, and smiling softly. “Why you think they wanna hurt you before in game?”

Sid nods. Deep down he knows the teams know, he’s just afraid to admit it to himself.

“Don’t have to come out to press,” Alex assures him. “Just be honest with team and friends. Just people who know us.”

Sid thinks about what Alex has said a minute. “What about my parents?” he asks lamely. “They’ll figure it out. Mario might say something.”

Alex squeezes his hand again and looks at him carefully. “Have to tell them, Sid. Family need to know. If like mine, they love you anyway and want you be happy,” he tells him simply.

“But the league...” Sid starts, “my career...” he continues, thinking of every argument he’s thought of over the last year to convince himself that he should stay away from Alex. “It’s going to end up getting out.....”

Alex shrugs dismissively and gives him a crooked smile. “America is free country. Canada too. Is not really bad thing to be gay. Well, maybe bit bad in NHL,” he shrugs again.

Sid swallows a lump in his throat and blinks. “People will hate me,” he says quietly.

Alex shakes his head. “Don’t know that.”

“Some will,” Sid insists.

Alex makes a dismissive sound. “Always people who don’t like. Can’t worry bout those ones.”

“I know. But I do. I care what people think,” Sid whispered, fighting to stay calm. “I like it when people like me.”

It’s true. Sid goes out of his way for people to like him. Always tries to be nice, courteous, and accommodating; takes care not to offend anyone. Sid also hates harsh reviews and criticism. Though he doesn’t like to admit it he loathes them more than most players. To Sid they always mean he should have done better, that he should have tried harder. That he will soon be disliked by people for something he has no control over, for something he can’t change and can’t do any better leaves him panic stricken.

Alex shakes his head. “Sid. Don’t have to be perfect.”

Sid can only laugh bitterly at that. Since when has he ever been expected to be anything other than perfect? His whole life Sid’s known he was special, that people would be watching him. He knows that he’s being judged by a higher standard than most. His dad ingrained that in him early on. He needs to behave. He’s the savior of hockey, the poster child of the NHL, anything less would be failure.

He feels stricken. “Yeah, I kind of do,” he tells Alex sadly.

“Is only you, Sid that think that,” Alex declares making Sid only smile vaguely.

“I don’t want to just be “the gay hockey player”, Sid whispers.

“More than that, Sidney,” Alex tells him, smiling gently. He rubs his thumb along the back of Sid’s hand and Sid watches it for a moment before he looks up again.

“I’d lose my endorsements.”

“Maybe not that bad.”

Sid looks at him intently, studying him for his reaction. “What about you? You’d risk everything you have here? What if.......” Sid stops. There are so many what-if’s he can’t even imagine them all.

“If something important,” Alex tells him. “I risk. Only need so much money, Sid. Also important to be happy. To be free. Don’t you want that, Sid?”

“Yeah, I do. It’s just that......If we could just wait a while. .....If you would wait for me, I would really like that.”

Alex shakes his head sadly. “Wait how long, Sid? Wait for what? When will be okay?”

“I don’t know,” Sid tells him. He knows he’s asking a lot, probably too much.

“Or just want me to wait around for when have time to fuck after hockey games?”

Sid looks up in shock. “That’s not all it is. And that’s not what I’m asking.” He tries to sound convincing although in reality it isn’t far from what he is asking for. Short of phone calls it’s all Sid can see happening while they are both playing hockey, although clearly Alex has removed all emotion from the situation.

“No?”

“No,” Sid managed to tell him more firmly. His insides are shaking but he doesn’t know whether it’s from brewing anger, sadness, or shock because his lover is suddenly forcing reality in his face. Sid feels another surge of anger that Alex is pushing him like this. “I want to be with you. I do.”

“Sure. But not enough to be honest,” Alex accuses him.

Sid can find no words to defend himself. He feels terrible and all he can do is shake his head, more at himself than because he disagrees with what Alex has said. His whole life has been about hockey, being Sidney Crosby. It’s all he knows and he can’t see any alternative. How can he risk everything he is? It’s a lot easier to say “be honest” than it is to actually live it.

How can he tell his parents, tell them that he’s like Andrew Beck after all? Tell his family, his management...what will they all think? What will the country think? Cold panic grabs hold as Sid’s rational side suddenly takes over and pushes his feelings and hopes to the side. Sid could lose everything. If he acts on his emotions, acts on impulse, listens to the little voice promising happy endings, then he’ll risk everything he’s ever worked for.

Sid cares about Alex a lot. He knows he does. He thinks he might even love him but how can he risk everything for a relationship that might not last? The two of them don’t even live in the same city. They play for opposing teams, live in different countries in the off season. Sid’s never had a serious relationship with a woman, never mind one with a man. The whole thing would be fraught with controversy. Did they have enough in common to even make it worthwhile? What if they didn’t make it? What if he risked everything......for nothing?

Sid sits there still holding onto Alex’s hand, thinking about everything he’s said. He can feel tears pricking his eyes and his throat is so tight he’s not sure he could talk even if he knew what to say. It takes him a long time to find any words.

“I don’t think I can do it,” he finally says. He can feel Alex’s hand stiffen in his.

Alex tries to pull his hand away and Sid reflexively holds on harder so that he can’t. He doesn’t want to let go even though he knows that eventually he will have to.

“It’s just really hard,” he chokes out, rubbing at the tears that are threatening to start running down his cheek with the hand that’s free. He’s unwilling to look up and reveal the fear which is surely starting to show in his eyes. He knows he’s going to lose Alex.

Alex says nothing for the longest time but finally nods. The look he gives Sid is sad but sympathetic. “I know, Sid. Is not easy.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Sid tells him forlornly. He hates how Alex is so much stronger than he is, so much more accepting in his certainty.

“Like I say, Sid. Is your life. Is up to you how you do.”

It is his life, and the more Sid thinks about it the more he realizes it can’t work with Alex. People will figure it out. There is no doubt about it. The teams already know and neither of them had told anyone, that’s how obvious it is. It would be no time before more people found out and then the media would get it and then the whole world would find out that Sidney Crosby was fucking, and getting fucked by, Alexander Ovechkin. Sid’s face flushes at the thought.

“We could keep it under wraps like we have been,” Sid suggested, knowing as he said it how futile the idea is. “At least until we’re finished playing.”

Alex looks at him sadly and shakes his head. “Is no good. We play for years yet. I don’t hide. Won’t stand around you with girlfriends, hook up after games, like secret,” he looks up at Sid determinedly.

Although Sid has always suspected it, this is the first acknowledgement of just how badly he hurt Alex by being with Christine. And just as certainly he knows he’s probably going to do it again.

“You don’t understand what it’s like,” he tells Alex.

Alex just watches him levelly and then answers. “Maybe understand more than you think.”

Sid shakes his head, not sure what to say. He’s afraid he deserves every unflattering thing Alex thinks about him. He wishes he could explain but it’s difficult to put into words, at least in the state he’s in at the moment.

It’s just the sheer hell of growing up Sidney Crosby; the expectations from his first days in hockey, the pressure and baggage that goes along with being the poster boy for Canadian’s national sport. Surely Alex must feel something similar being a Russian superstar? Sid is certain he does. Except that he’s obviously thought about it and made his decision and in the process made Sid look...What? Weak, pathetic, cowardly......a litany of words go through his mind.

As if reading his thoughts Alex’s mouth twists in an ironic smile. “Maybe too hard for you. Maybe not worth it,” he suggests and Sid can feel his heart slowly break.

He whispers, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Alex nods as if expecting to hear those words. “I’m sorry too, Sid.”

Sid looks at him helplessly. He knows this is the end. Alex has been honest with him, told him what he wants, what Sid needs to do. And Sid can’t do it, can’t bring himself to take the risk. But he also doesn’t know if he can face never seeing Alex again. The thought of it makes him feel sick.

“But I don’t want to stop,” he tells him. Even to himself he sounds weak, pathetic and whiny.

Alex shrugs and when Sid looks at him his eyes are also swimming in tears although there isn’t a hint of emotion on his face. Finally he runs his hands over his face and shakes his head. He looks incredibly tired.

He says softly but firmly, “Is up to you, Sid.”

Sid shakes his head. “I don’t know how you do it? You’re not afraid of anything.”

Alex shrugs. “Not true. Afraid of lots of things. But most afraid of looking back and wishing I do something different. Would be worse. Would be worst thing for me.”

“What about coaching? You told me you’d maybe want to coach after. No one in the NHL will want a gay coach.”

“You don’t know that, Sid. All you do is think about ways you can’t. Just see problems. Even if not there yet.”

Sid shakes his head in admiration. Alex is so stubborn in life, just as he is when he’s playing hockey. If something gets in his way he just goes right through it. When he sets his mind on something no one can stop him. Sid can’t help but find it amusing despite how upset he is. He lets out a sharp laugh and it sounds more like he’s choking. Alex gives him a puzzled look so he tries to explain.

“It’s just that you remind me of a toy I had when I was a kid. It was a toy jeep with a remote control. You couldn’t stop the thing. It would just keep going no matter what. Up and over whatever I drove it towards. That’s what you’re like, Alex.”

Alex looks at him sadly, thinking a moment before he replies. “When I was little boy Sid we not have much money. Not many toys. But one year I got real teddy bear. With fur. I carried him around all time. Sleep with him. Take him outside to play. First he get dirty, then he start to rip, then stuffing all fall out til there nothing left inside.”

Alex taps his hand over his heart at the last line before he finishes. “That’s what you remind me of, Sid.”

Sid looks down at his hands and bites on his lip. He shakes his head and the silence stretches out. There’s really nothing more he can say. He wipes a tear from his cheek with the back of his hand. There is nothing more to say.

“I guess I’ll see you,” Sid starts before his throat closes up completely.

“Yeah, Sid,” Alex agrees neutrally. “I see you next game.”

Alex eyes are red rimmed, as tear filled as Sid’s. He gets up and leaves the bar without looking back. Sid sits and stares into what’s left of his drink, not finding the determination to finish it nor the strength to put it down. The logical fear of being found out, risking his career is turning into a more innate panic at how to make it through the next hour, the next day without Alex in his life.

Sid doesn’t know how he’s going to go on as if nothing has happened when it feels like his life has just stopped. He’ll never be with Alex again and the pain is almost too overwhelming to keep inside. The worst part is the knowledge that he’s hurt Alex, has let down the one person he most wants to see happy is even more unbearable and he struggles to keep himself from sobbing.

Life will go on, will continue the way Sid has chosen, as it is supposed to go, as people expect. Sid will keep playing hockey even though he feels like something inside him has died. Sid sits in the booth until Jordie finds him much later, staring straight ahead, still lost in thought.

“Hey, Sid,” Jordie tells him. “We’ve been looking for you. It’s time to go.”

Sid looks up at him realizes the bar is near empty now. He shakes his head and starts to get up before the other man notices how he looks and presses him back down.

“Are you okay,” Jordie asks, his brows knit with concern.

Sid shakes his head. He doesn’t really want to talk about it. It won’t help, nothing will. What’s done is done.

“No, not really,” he tells him.

“Anything I can do?” Jordie asks.

Sid tries to smile but falls short. “No, not really.”

The worried look Jordie is giving him finally gets to Sid and he can feel his shoulders start to shake. He fights down a sob and is only partly successful. It comes out as a kind of choking hiccup but Sid manages to stop it at one.

“It’s just Alex,” he tries to explain before his throat closes up again. “It won’t work. I mean it can’t. It just can’t. And it’s just really hard right now.”

Jordie nods sympathetically as if he actually knows what the hell Sid is talking about and puts an arm around his shoulder.

“I’m really sorry," Jordie tells him. For all his straightforward simplicity he is a really good guy. Sid knows he means it from his heart.

“It’s for the best,” Sid tells him. “It’s not like I could ever be with him or anything. Not while we’re playing in the NHL. I mean, it just…..” he finishes helplessly. He’s not sure if he’s trying to convince Jordie or himself. “Right?”

“I don’t know, man,” Jordie tells him quietly. He’s not giving him anything here. Sid wishes Jordie would agree with him, tell him he’s doing the right thing but it’s not coming. Instead he pats Sid on the arm and tells him, “It’s time to make a move. The bar’s closing.”

Sid nods as he gets up. It’s for the best he tells himself yet again. So why does it feel so wrong?

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

Sid hardly remembers getting home; focusing on holding himself together. The tears are still not far away. He stares out the window of the limo as the city lights flash by. It’s started to snow heavily and Sid wonders for a moment if the weather is going to delay Alex’s flight back to DC in the morning. Then he reminds himself that it’s something he has no reason to worry about anymore.

Either Jordie’s tipped the guys off or they just sense that Sid’s in a bad place because they are uncharacteristically subdued in the limo. When it pulls up outside Letang’s house he gives Sid a reassuring pat on the knee before he climbs out. Sid has to get out of the car so Geno can get past when they let him off at his home. While they stand beside the car Geno pulls Sid into a boozy hug before he staggers up the sidewalk.

They finally reach Sid’s house and when he gets out Jordie walks him to his door. Sid unlocks his door and when he turns to say goodbye Jordie puts his hand on Sid’s arm to stop him from going inside.

“Are you going to be alright here on your own, Sid?” he asks. “I could crash here for the night?”

Sid forces himself to smile and shakes his head. “I’m okay, Jordie. Thanks though. I need to get to bed.”

Jordie looks a little doubtful but the limo driver honks his horn impatiently so he turns around and walks back to the car. Sid watches as Jordie gives him a final wave and climbs into the limo. Sid goes inside and kicks off his shoes at the door but doesn’t take off his coat. He feels like he’s frozen inside. 

He’s got a bottle of vodka in the freezer so he pulls it out and makes himself a drink with what’s left of a carton of orange juice. It’s necessarily strong and he shudders when he takes the first sip. It gets better after that and soon Sid can feel the familiar warmth flooding through him. He stops in front of the picture of Alex, Geno and himself that’s hanging in the hall and looks at it while he finishes his drink.

He takes the picture off the wall and brings it with him into the living room, putting it down on the coffee table while he fixes himself another. The drink is straight vodka this time, there’s nothing else to mix it with, but it goes down alright. He stares at the picture of Alex while he drinks. By the time Sid falls asleep on the couch the rest of the bottle is gone.

He wakes up the next morning still in his clothes from the night before. It’s a good the morning practise was optional because it’s already noon when Sid looks at his watch. His neck is stiff and his mouth tastes as if something might have died in it. He’s got a headache so he gulps down some aspirin and has a drink of water. He’s just getting out of the shower when Jordie calls to make sure he’s okay. Sid tells him he’s fine even though at the moment he doesn’t know if he will ever be fine again. 

But life goes on. Sid puts on a brave front and tells himself he’s got to move forward. He puts on his game face and concentrates on being the consummate hockey player he’s expected to be. He gives his interviews, talks about how the team is playing, about their opponents, and their chances in the playoffs. The team gets on a bit of a winning streak, getting up to seven wins before finally losing to the Jets in Winnipeg. Sid’s playing alright, he gets a couple goals and several more assists. If the team notices that he doesn’t laugh or joke around like he used to no one says anything about it.

He phones his mom one night and there must be something telling in his tone because she quickly asks him if he’s alright. He assures her everything is fine and changes the subject to something his coach had said to him that day. He makes a point of sounding more cheerful so that she doesn’t worry. He’s not sure how well he’s fooling her.

The Penguins finish the regular season and because of the late season rally they sneak into the final playoff spot. The team is playing well but as usual the long season has taken a toll and several key players are injured. Geno is out yet again, this time with a bad knee, and Brooks has a separated shoulder. It’s the kids that are holding the team together. Graham, a new defenseman called up from the minors to replace Orpik is playing with poise beyond his years and Selander is leading the team’s scoring. He’s in the running for rookie of the year.

They meet league leading Toronto in the first round and surprise everyone, not least of all themselves, by upsetting them in six games. The rookies, Selander and Krylov, play amazingly well. They both seem to have thrown off their first season jitters and are playing the way all the scouts knew they could. Sid wonders it the two of them hanging out so much and sharing a place has helped in that regard.

Krylov has to replace Flower in the first game when he unluckily takes a slap shot to the throat. It’s a daunting setback but the team never looks back. They rally around the rookie goal tender and play the best hockey they are capable of and Krylov doesn’t let them down. Some of the saves he makes against the Leafs have the commentators shaking their heads and there is early talk of a Conn Smythe trophy depending upon how far the Penguins go. Regardless, Krylov has the considerable firepower of Toronto fairly stymied and even manages to shut them out in two of the games.

Selander also dominates the play. The kid is on fire, netting eleven goals in the six games, including two game winning goals in overtime. He’s always been a beautiful skater but he’s playing with a confidence Sid’s not seen before. When he gets a hat trick in the final game Sid is so happy for his young winger that he forgets for a time just how miserable his own life is. It’s really only hockey that’s keeping him going.

The second round of the playoffs unfortunately proves to be a different story. Pittsburgh plays the Florida Panthers and their tough, disciplined play proves to be too much for Sid’s young team. They drop the first two games by narrow margins but then rally back for a win at home. They are leading again in the fourth game when the Panthers’ big defenseman Blake, nails Selander against the boards and knocks the stuffing out of him. It’s a clean hit but it shakes up the young player and he goes down like a sack of rocks.

He manages to leave the ice under his own steam and he returns for the third period but he’s obviously hurting. His play isn’t quite the same. The Panthers sense they are onto something and grind away at the Penguins with tight fore-checking and lots of punishing checks. They don’t miss a chance to rough the younger players up against the boards and inevitably they become frustrated and begin to retaliate. The Penguins start picking up penalties and as stellar as Krylov has been in goal he can’t stop everything. 

The Panthers score two power play goals in the third period and win game four. Game five is much the same. The Panthers are relentless. As talented as the Pens’ rookies are they don’t have the experience or discipline to withstand Florida’s strategy. It’s too much for the younger players and they lose their composure again. The Penguins play well but lose game five 3 to 2 in the second overtime period; their playoff season in done.  
As disappointing as being out of the playoffs is, Sid is proud of his team. He treats everyone to a night out at their favorite pub and makes sure there is plenty of beer. Jordie and Letang have planned a week in Hawaii with their girlfriends and they talk Sid into coming along. He’s had enough to drink that it seems like a great idea and before he can think better of it he calls Christine and invites her to come with him. She’s on a break so she agrees immediately. The next morning he’s not sure what he was thinking. He takes Christine on a double date with Letang and his girlfriend and it goes okay so Sid hopes the week in Hawaii with be as successful.

Sid is slightly surprised when the trip does turn out to be fun. Christine hits it off with the other women a lot better than she ever has with Sid’s family. The guys are even getting better at tolerating her haute ways. Or maybe, Sid thinks, they are just getting used to her. 

He still misses Alex with a dull ache but Sid has to admit that being with Christine is easier. He doesn't have to worry about fitting in, about getting disapproving looks from people or having to always make a statement just by his choice of partner. 

They all rent jeeps and drive around the island, take surfing lessons and go snorkeling like all the other tourists do. Oahu isn’t exactly a hotbed of hockey so they go unrecognized wherever they go. They also spend quite a bit of time kicking back at the pool and getting some sun which is exactly what they need after a long season.

Sid’s at the pool bar one afternoon with Letang and Jordie while the girls are out shopping and he orders another Mai Tai. Kris gives him a quizzical look when the bartender puts it in front of him. 

“What?” Sid asks him.

Letang shrugs. “Just a little early to be hitting it that hard,” he comments. He looks at his watch. “It’s not even noon yet.”

“It’s afternoon somewhere,” Jordie pipes up. “Come on, Kris, we’re on vacation. Lighten up.”

He raises his glass and salutes Sid but Kris doesn’t seem convinced. He and Jordie are both still on their first drink.

Sid makes no comment. Damn right he’s on vacation and it’s not up to the guys to watch over him anyway. He downs half of his cocktail and enjoys the familiar buzz. He’ll slow down when he gets back to Nova Scotia and gets into a fitness routine. For now he’s quite happy to sit by the pool and drink himself happy.

Kris looks at him seriously and asks, “How are you doing, Sid? Really?”

Sid plays with the little umbrella in his drink. “I’m fine,” he tells Letang curtly. He’s really hoping Kris takes a hint and drops the subject but unfortunately he won’t be put off.

“Come on, Sid. You know you can talk to us. We’re your friends.”

Jordie nods enthusiastically. “That’s right, Sid. We’ve all been worried about you. It must be kind of rough. I mean, you and Ovechkin........”

Sid looks up at him sharply. “I don’t want to talk about it, Jordie. Okay?” he bites out. He immediately regrets his tone. He knows the guys mean well. 

“I mean, there’s nothing to say,” he continues more gently. “We had kind of a thing for a while but it’s over. Like I said before, it’s not like it could ever work out or anything.”

Kris doesn’t really look convinced and he’s about to say something but Sid shakes his head. “Look, I’m glad you guys were so cool about it but there’s no way, I mean,” he stops there and shrugs. What more can he say.

“We just want to you to be happy, Sid,” Kris tells him. 

Sid swallows hard and has to look away from the concern he sees in his friends’ eyes. He knows he’s lucky to have such good teammates and friends. He doesn’t want to worry them. 

“I’ll be okay,” he assures them. “I promise.”

“That’s good, man,” Jordie tells him. “Cause we need you. You’re our captain.”

Any more conversation on the subject is cut short by the girls returning and joining them at the bar. The subject turns to the amazing deals they’ve found at the outlet mall. Sid orders a Mai Tai for Christine and gets another one for him too. 

That night Kris and Jordie stay in to watch hockey. The Caps are playing Montreal in the finals and it looks like it could be the deciding game of the series. Sid takes Christine out for dinner at the most expensive restaurant he can think of and orders champagne. He tells her because it’s kind of their third year anniversary but really it’s so that he doesn’t have to watch Alex and the Capitals win their second Stanley Cup. 

*********************************

 

When he gets back from Hawaii Sid goes home to Halifax. He skips the NHL awards ceremony this year. Christine flies to Europe. She has a lot of work lined up for the summer. Sid invites her to visit but she doesn’t have any time off so Sid mostly hangs out with the guys on his softball team. He’s out at the bar two or three nights a week and the guys are a little surprised at his change in behavior. Sid isn’t usually so much fun. He’s keeping the cab companies afloat with all his rides.

Sid’s parents drop by one Sunday morning and are slightly appalled that he’s not up yet and is obviously hung over. It’s not really like him. He’s normally pretty dedicated to staying in shape over the summer break but he’s not even running this year and it’s starting to show a little. He’s surprised one morning when he looks in the mirror and realizes he’s developing a bit of a gut. It’s a reality check and he decides he better shape up. He starts to work out a bit even if he doesn’t curtail his partying.

Sid heads back to Pittsburgh earlier than usual. It’s partly because his parents won’t let up on him about his drinking and partly because Christine is home and really wants him to go to some charity appearance with her. Sid tries to get out of it but she’s so insistent that he finally gives in. Anyway, it’s for a good cause. It’s a charity auction which is a benefit for sick children. 

The two of them get a lot of press in the local media for their appearance at the benefit. There’s a photo of the two of them on the front page of the sports section the next morning. It’s slightly ironic because Christine hates kids. Sid can remember taking her to a barbeque once at one of the guys’ places and how she’d wanted nothing to do with anyone’s children. While the other women had gathered around to admire a new baby Christine had stayed well away. She was always quite vocal about how she would never be having any herself. 

Sid goes out to a sports bar with Geno the next week and Jordie, Letang and Flower come along. They are all in the middle of hearing about how Geno has finally proposed to his girlfriend of several years when Sid notices an image of Alex on the TV behind their table. It looks like he’s made the sports news for some reason although there’s no sound so Sid isn’t sure why.

It’s not until Monday morning when Sid gets to the rink that he hears what’s going on. Geno and Krylov are in the dressing room already when Sid arrives and are carrying on a conversation in Russian. They stop immediately when they see him and both look so uneasy it’s almost comical. Sid knows immediately that something is up even though he’s got no clue what the two of them have been talking about.

“What’s going on, Geno,” Sid asks. He’s met with an uncomfortable silence. 

Geno concentrates on his laces and doesn’t meet Sid’s eyes when he tells him, “Just talking about stuff from home, Sid.”

Krylov starts in again in Russian, telling Geno something that he obviously feels quite strongly about, judging by his strident tone of voice. Selander sits down beside him and says something quietly under his breath and puts a calming hand on Krylov’s knee. Geno glares at Krylov but doesn’t say anything. Most of the team hasn’t arrived yet so the four of them have the room to themselves.

Krylov glares right back at Geno and starts talking again, this time gesturing towards Sid several times as if to emphasize his point. Selander looks as if he wants to disappear into the floor and Sid begins to wonder if the kid can understand what the two Russians are saying. Geno looks as if he wouldn’t mind disappearing himself if give a chance. He looks that uncomfortable. Instead he silences Krylov with a curt sentence. Whatever it is Geno says it seems to appease the young goalie because he finally stands down and just glares at his fellow Russian sullenly. Selander looks up from the floor and watches Geno as well. 

Geno sighs and turns to Sid. “We were talking about Alex,” he grudgingly explains.

“What about him,” Sid asks, his mind flashing back to the news story he’d glanced at a couple nights before.

Geno looks down at his skates. “Wasn’t sure if I should say anything, Sid. Not sure if you want to know about. But Alex was in car accident in Russia.”

“Is he alright?” Sid immediately asks. “What happened?” 

“Is okay, Sid. Just can’t play for while. Broke leg in accident. Had surgery on knee.”

Sid lets out a sigh of relief at that. As much as he’s struggled to distance himself from Alex, to keep him from his thoughts, the idea that something bad has happened to him is too much to bear. 

Krylov starts in again in Russian and Geno gives him an irritated look before responding. The two of them argue back and forth while Sid and Selander watch in silence. Sid is completely mystified as to what they’re talking about although he does recognize the name _Sasha_ a couple times. 

Selander says something to the two of them in Russian and Sid’s earlier suspicions are confirmed. At least whatever it is he says it immediately stops the two others from bickering at each other. Krylov opens his mouth to say more but Selander mutters something at him and he stops.

Geno turns back to Sid and finally begins to explain what’s going on while the other two watch. “Was big story at home, Sid. Guy in car with Alex was killed.” 

“Who was he?” Sid asks, immediately feeling for Alex.

“Friend of Alex. Dmitri was name. We play juniors together. Semin too.”

“Was Alex driving? Was he speeding?” Sid immediately curses Alex’s love of fast cars and fears the worst.

Geno shakes his head. “No, Sid. Was just accident. Alex in wrong place.”

Krylov interjects again until Selander silences him with an elbow to the ribs. Geno gives him another baleful look before he continues.

“Reason it big story, Sid, was cause Dmitri gay. Everything come out after accident. Lots of talk about Alex. Pictures of them out at club. Reporters ask Alex bout it too. ”

“What did he say?” Sid has to ask.

It’s Krylov who answers the last question. “He tell truth, Sid. Alex come out. Say he’s not ashamed of Dmitri. And not ashamed to say he’s gay too. Say that Dmitri was old friend. Good friend. But is personal life so not talk about it. Course everyone think they together.” 

Krylov’s voice is filled with admiration when he tells Sid the part about telling the truth. No doubt the young Russian is thrilled that someone as prominent as Alex is willing to stand up and make such an admission. Sid feels a wave of shame at how he’s not nearly so admirable. 

“Wow,” is all he can think of to say.

Geno steps in again. “Press go crazy, Sid. Come after everyone. Ask us what we think. All anyone talk about in Russia right now is gay hockey players. Is crazy,” he says shaking his head. 

“Was good to come back to Pittsburgh,” he concludes mournfully.

“Have you talked to Alex?” Sid asks. He can imagine quite well the kind of media attention Alex must be attracting.

Geno shakes his head. “No. Try to but no.”

Sid looks down at his feet and silence permeates the locker room. Finally Geno speaks again. “Sorry, Sid. Should have said something before. Just not sure you want to know.”

Sid shrugs. “It’s okay, Geno,” he says softly. “It’s not like.......” he starts before trailing off. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He can’t say it doesn’t matter to him because he’d be lying to himself. It will probably always matter. No, what Sid means, though it hurts to admit it, is that he no longer has any right to that kind of information. He’s cut himself off from it with his actions.

Krylov looks like he has more to say but seems to think better of it when Geno gives him another withering look.

“Is more, Sid,” he admits.

Sid gives him an exasperated look. “What?”

“Um, pictures of all us. Ones from Semin birthday. Some fans get them, put up on message board. Press get them too. All over internet.”

Krylov struggles to contain his amusement and Sid wonders what the hell is so funny about the whole situation. 

“Russian hockey blog say NHL full of homosexuals,” Krylov tells Sid. “Have pictures to prove it. Say better for us to all stay and play in KHL.”

“Oh, fuck,” Sid comes up with, frowning. He remembers that party and some of the pictures. He hopes the North American press don’t get hold of them.

“Where did they get the pictures?” he wonders. He can’t imagine any of the guys giving them to the media.

“Semin think someone take them from his friend’s Facebook,” Geno tells him Sid suddenly remembers the two Russian guys he’d met that night. Shit. 

Sid finally asks the question that’s been on his mind from the beginning. “So, this guy with Alex?” he starts before losing his nerve. Finally he finishes. “Were they.....um.....together?”

Geno looks at Sid a minute before answering and Sid is afraid the pain is all too apparent on his face. It’s what Sid knew would happen. Alex has moved on and Sid has no one to blame but himself.  
But Geno doesn’t confirm his fears. Instead he shakes his head and tells Sid, “Don’t know, Sid. Not talk to Alex all summer.”

Sid’s not sure if he really doesn’t know or if he just doesn’t want to say but Sid leaves it at that. He’s pretty sure of the answer. He bends down and starts to lace his skates as a couple of the other Penguins finally straggle in. Flower comes and sits down beside Sid. He takes one look at the solemn faces around him and asks, “Who died?”

Geno mutters something in Russian and shakes his head and both Krylov and Selander look stricken. Sid looks back down at the floor.

“What did I say?” Flower demands.

“Just drop it,” Sid tells him. “Come on,” he tells everyone, “it’s time to get on the ice.”

 

*********************************

 

Sid’s hope that the Russian hockey gossip won’t make it across the Atlantic proves to be futile. It takes a few days but by the first week of the new season the story is definitely out. Most of the mainstream hockey press doesn’t mention the pictures when they’re talking to the Penguins but there is a certain subset of interviewers in the league that covers just this type of story.

Sid reads some of the gossip blogs in his spare time just to see what they have to say. He tells himself it’s to see if he’s being mentioned anywhere but it’s also because he wants to find out anything he can about Dmitri. There’s plenty of information out there about Dmitri Seminov, his life was no secret, but as to what he meant to Alex there is no further insight.

Dmitri played on the junior national team with Geno and Alex. He’d had his hockey career cut short by a serious knee injury and had spent the last few years as an assistant coach with Moscow Dynamo. Somewhat surprisingly to Sid, he’d apparently been living an openly gay lifestyle and was completely accepted by the team.

Sid reads a number of interviews with Russian hockey players who have nothing but good things to say about Seminov. He was universally respected and well liked in the community. Everyone is saddened by his death and give their condolences to his family. There is speculation about his relationship with Alex but no one who knows them will confirm or deny that they were lovers. 

The best the bloggers can do is come up with some pictures of the two of them out at a club. They are hardly incriminating and Sid wonders why Alex felt he had to make any kind of confession at all. Except that Sid does know why. Alex told him as much the last time they saw each other. Alex has made a decision to be honest and he intends to stick with it. 

Sid finds one interview with Alex on YouTube where he’s asked about the accident. It must have taken place quite soon afterwards because Alex looks tired and his face is badly bruised. He looks like he has some stitches in one cheek and his upper lip is swollen. He looks ill at ease and unhappy about having to do an interview at all. His impatience is palpable and Sid can’t help but smile fondly.

The interviewer, an attractive woman, asks a few softball questions about hockey and off season training before she gets down to business and questions Alex about the accident. He answers her briefly but it’s obvious to Sid that he finds it difficult to talk about. He’s visibly shaken. The reporter asks about Dmitri and Alex says that they were good friends. When she pushes, asking if there was any truth to the rumours that the two of them were lovers he won’t answer.

He shrugs apologetically and looks at the camera. “I talk about hockey if you like,” he tells them, “But not personal life.”

Alex is polite but firm and the interview wraps up pretty fast after that. Who wants to hear about hockey when there is gossip about homosexuality and secret lovers.

 

******************************* 

 

It takes another month before anyone brings up the infamous Semin birthday pictures with the Penguins players. They are in Calgary of all places when a young print journalist corners Sid in the dressing room and asks him if he’s seen the pictures. He tells her no. It’s the truth. He’s made a point of not looking for them, afraid of what they will show. But he knows it’s just a matter of time. 

The reporter won’t let it go. She tells him she just happens to have them on her phone and starts scrolling through to show them to Sid. He looks down at the screen briefly to confirm it’s them and then looks frantically around the dressing room for support. The few guys left in the room gather around to have a look.

All the pictures are there; Alex kissing Semin on the cheek, hugging Geno and then Sid. All of the pictures are completely fucking innocent except that in light of recent events with Alex they might not be. Or at least they can lead to speculation. The rest of the guys laugh the photos off. It’s easy for them to do when they are straight. Geno laughs the hardest and when the reporter asks him for a comment he looks at her with a straight face and winks. He assures her that Alex is a great kisser. 

The reporter saves the best picture for last and Sid’s heart sinks when he sees it. She enlarges it further and holds it out to him. Sid looks at the picture and he can feel himself blush. It’s one of Alex kissing Sid on the neck and it’s not so much that part as the look of flushed rapture on Sid’s face that makes it so damn incriminating. Sid looks away guiltily and there is an awkward silence in the room. 

It’s harder for Sid to laugh it off. The rumors have persisted over the years. His reluctance to date while in hockey, the clean cut image and the absence of a serious girlfriend all make the photo of he and Alex all the more damning. Sid attempts to make light of it but really he’s beginning to panic. He ends up mumbling something unintelligible that has the reporter scratching her head.

Geno immediately realizes his discomfort and leads the conversations to another subject. He is a consummate flirt with his puppy dog eyes and soon has the reporter eating out of his hand. Sid waits until she’s deep in conversation with Geno before he edges out of the locker room, breathing a sigh of relief as he escapes. 

Sid really hopes that is the last he hears of the damn photo but it’s a faint hope. It seems like every reporter he meets has to bring it up and ask him for a comment. The last straw is when his sister Taylor calls him to tease him about it. 

“Yeah, Sid,” she starts. “I like the picture of you and Ovechkin.”

“What picture,” Sid asks her.

“Ha! You know the one. The one where Ovie is giving you a hickey.”

Sid stifles a groan. “Where did you see it?”

“Where haven’t I seen it?” Taylor laughs. “It’s been all over the net for months. On all the message boards.” She lowers her voice and tells him conspiratorially, “Some of the girls on the team think it’s really hot.”

“Jesus,” Sid mutters.

“Hey, it’s all good, Sid. It gives you some cred. You’re not so boring anymore. Whole new fan base.”

“Great.”

“Anyway, I just wanted to warn you though,” Taylor tells him. “Mom just phoned me tonight. She’s seen it. She asked me if I knew anything.”

Sid shuts his eyes. “What did you say?” he demands.

“What could I say? You never tell me anything!” She starts to laugh. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you the heads up. You know it’s really out there when mom’s seen it.”

“Yeah. Good point,” Sid agrees. His mom is really not into the internet. The most she usually does is check her e-mail so Taylor’s right. If his mom has seen the pictures then probably everyone on earth has. 

The point is not lost on him and Sid is desperate to do something to stop the speculation. When they get home from their next road trip Sid takes Christine out for dinner and proposes to her. She’s a little surprised when he does but she accepts immediately although she tells him she doesn’t want to get married for a few years. She isn’t interested in settling down yet. 

Sid makes sure to mention his engagement during his next interview and it isn’t long before the news is out. Christine does her part to make sure everyone knows as well and at his least charitable Sid wonders if she’s more interested in the publicity than she is in actually getting married to him. She seems to be playing it for all it’s worth.

The hockey press latch onto the story and it becomes big news in Canada, finally pushing the Ovechkin story out of the spotlight. It’s almost like a royal wedding and Sid and Christine end up on the cover of Macleans magazine as the most beautiful couple in Canada. It’s all a bit much for Sid and he starts to wonder if he’s done the right thing.

The worst part is talking to his mother after she hears the news. Unfortunately it was not from him. The conversation does not go well. Not telling his parents first was a bit of an oversight on Sid’s part. He’d been meaning to call but was a little afraid of their reaction. Anyway, the season is in full swing and he just got busy he tells himself.

His mom phones the night the story first hits the news. Sid kind of expected her to call him during the day. He’s not sure why it’s taken her this long. She was probably been overcome with shock all afternoon. When he sees it’s her on the phone he picks it up hesitantly.

“Hi, Mom,” he answers.

“Sidney,” she starts. “I’m thrilled that you are engaged, don’t get me wrong. But your father and I are just a bit shocked. We hadn’t realized that you and Christine were so........serious.”

He can hear real concern in her voice. “Um, yeah, I guess we are,” he stammers. “I, we I mean, just thought it seemed like a good time, you know?”

“Do you know when? Have you set a date,” his mother asks, wheels obviously turning. “Next summer?”

“Oh,” Sid pauses, “No, no date yet. We haven’t gotten that far,” he tells her completely truthfully. “You know, just engaged for now.”

His mom sounds slightly relieved at that and asks him a few more things about Christine. They’ve only met her a few times and don’t know a lot about her. Sid answers what he can but honestly there are lots of things he doesn’t know either, including embarrassingly enough, what her parents’ names are. His mother is not reassured.

 

*****************************

 

The Penguins don’t meet the Capitals until the middle of October. Alex still isn’t on the roster and the team hasn’t been releasing much information. Sid doesn’t even know if he’s back in North America yet or not. He finds himself combing the internet for information on Alex sometimes when he can’t sleep. There’s not much out there. It’s as if he’s dropped off the face of the earth. If Geno knows anything he’s not saying and Sid makes a point not to ask.

Sid is walking past the visitors’ dressing room after the game when he sees a familiar face. Alex Semin is just coming out and when he sees Sid he immediately frowns and turns to walk the other way so they don’t have to meet. Sid won’t be put off. He walks after Semin and quickly catches up to him, grabbing him by the elbow.

“Wait, Semin,” he tells him.

“What you want, Sid?” Semin bites out, pulling his arm away and continuing to walk. 

“I just want to talk to you,” Sid tells him. “Will you just stop for a minute.”

“Got bus to catch,” Semin tells him, glancing at his watch.

“It won’t take long. Please?”

Semin finally stops walking and looks at him with his arms crossed. He’s never made much of a secret of what he thinks of Sid and his dislike is readily apparent in his expression at the moment. He looks at Sid with thinly veiled contempt edged with impatience.

“So talk,” he tells him. 

Sid pauses a moment and runs a hand nervously through his hair. “Um, I was just wondering how Alex is? I haven’t heard anything.”

“Why you care?” Semin demands. 

Sid blows out a breath. That’s probably a good point. He’s not exactly sure himself. “I just do, okay?” he tells the other man and he can’t help the quaver in his voice when he says it. “Would you please just tell me what’s going on? Is he alright?”

Semin considers a moment and then finally relents. “He break leg. Need surgery on knee. Ligament damage. Is getting better but still can’t play yet.”

“Will he be okay?” Sid asks him, worrying what a knee injury will do to Alex’s career. He’s not reassured when Semin just shrugs. 

“No one know. Is still early. Was pretty bad. Alex want to play again but who knows,” he admits.

Sid can see the concern for his friend in Semin’s expression and Sid’s customary dislike for the man fades a little. Despite his animosity Sid knows Semin has always been a good friend to Alex. Sid can certainly sympathize with his concern. It worries him too. The fear of a career ending injury is one most hockey players share and knees can be a particular weakness.

Semin looks at his watch again and tells Sid, “Look, I have to go.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Sid says. “Look, thanks for telling me. I know you didn’t have to. And I appreciate it.”

Semin just shrugs. He looks mildly annoyed at himself for giving anything to Sid at all. He begins to walk towards the exit again but Sid calls after him.

“Semin.”

He turns around again. “What, Sid?”

“Look, just tell him that I hope he’s okay, alright?”

“Yeah, okay, Sid,” he nods. “I tell him that.”

“Thanks.”

When Semin turns around and walks away Sid watches him go until he disappears out the exit at the end of the hall to where Sid knows his bus will be waiting. The building is quiet. All the rest of the Penguins have gone home. Sid is alone. He walks down to his car and drives home.

 

*****************************

 

The hockey season grinds along. Sid’s been playing alright, scoring goals; the team’s winning more games than it loses. He and Christine are doing okay, socializing with the team, making appearances for charity when Sid’s schedule allows. Sid’s not really into the Pittsburgh social scene but he goes when Christine insists and he finds if he drinks enough they are manageable.

They talk a little about Christine moving in with him, she’s gone so much of the time with work that it’s barely worth having an apartment, but Sid’s not quite ready for that. For the time being she’s staying over on the weekends when he’s in town.

It’s another month before Sid has what he refers to afterwards as his breakdown. There’s nothing terrible going on in his life but Sid finally comes to the realization that he’s deeply unhappy. He feels completely empty. It comes to a head one night when they have some of Christine’s friends over at his place for dinner. She’s been bugging him about getting to know them and Sid has finally relented although he has reservations about the evening.

They are educated people, politically aware, well travelled and involved in the arts, and Sid knows he doesn’t have a fucking thing in common with any of them. They are polite to Sid but it’s clear they regard him as some sort of quaint throwback to a bygone era. The men talk to him a little about hockey but he can tell they aren’t really interested. The women don’t even try. 

Sid finds himself drinking more than he means to and gets a disapproving look from Christine when she notices. These are people that are important to her and she cares what they think. Sid puts on his coat and tells her he’s going out to the deck to turn on the barbeque. There is half a bottle of vodka on the kitchen counter and he grabs that on the way through. When he gets outside he sees that it’s started to snow lightly. The temperature takes his breath away for a moment. It’s as cold outside as he feels within and when Sid gets to the barbeque he just keeps walking.

In a couple blocks he regrets not putting on gloves and a hat. It’s that cold, crisp weather that signals winter has arrived in earnest in Pittsburgh and Sid pulls his collar up to protect himself from the biting wind. He has no idea where he’s going. He just needs to walk, and he needs to think.

He walks down streets he drives along every day, past green space he sometimes runs though and past houses he recognizes. A couple of the other Penguins live in the same development as Sid but he doesn’t stop at any of them. He doesn’t want company right now. He opens the bottle of vodka and has a couple good swallows before tucking it back inside his coat.

His mind is in complete turmoil. There are a lot of things Sid wants but doesn’t know how to get. There are equally as many things he doesn’t want but can’t see any way of avoiding. From where he is it’s hard for him to see any satisfactory or even possible compromises. He doesn’t know what the hell to do with his life.

He still wants Alex. He wants to be honest like Alex is. But he wants to play hockey too. And he still wants everyone to like him. No, Sid corrects himself. Not just like him. Sid needs everyone to love him. He wants their approval and their adulation. He wants his parents to be proud of him. But at the heart of it all he still wants Alex and he can’t reconcile that last fact with all the rest.

Sid still wants to be a hockey player. It was what he’s always wanted and he’s worked incredibly hard and he’s managed to do it. But it’s become more than a job; it’s become him – or the _him_ that is required for the celebrity part of the whole thing. He doesn’t want to be his job – not all the time. But neither does he want to disappoint anyone or seem ungrateful for the opportunities he has been given, the opportunities he’s still being given.

But it’s starting to unravel and he can see that. He’s not sure how long he can hang on, how long he can keep doing this. What if his whole life is just one hockey season after another, a life lived in the limelight all over the world, busy until he’s made more money and set more records and met more famous people than anyone ever needed but no time to enjoy it and no one to spend it with? What if this is all there is? One social event after another full of beautiful people whose smiles don’t quite reach their eyes.

The bright happy secure future with a home, love and stability like his parents provided him with growing up will always be in the future. It will never be now. Now will always be spent in temporary settings, getting the job done, game after game, or winning another championship while he loses everything in the present, everything important to him; like he has lost Alex. Sid feels the first unwelcome waves of panic and drinks more of the vodka to combat the feelings. 

Every day, the decision to leave Alex tears at Sid, nagging him a little more; almost as if there is something he has forgotten, something he hasn’t factored in. Deep down he knows now what it is. It only requires a brief inward look to identify the hidden aspect, but he refuses to see, refuses to admit it because he is so scared of what he will find. But he can’t keep hiding from himself.

Sid stares at the trees, stares at the cloudy black sky and forces himself to finally look with honesty at who he is. Not who he is expected to be, or who he wants to be, but who he really is when he walks the dark streets all alone. Admitting the truth is terrifying. Knowing he has lied to himself for so long is almost worse. 

He thinks about his childhood friend Andrew and how when they were kids of a certain age they were almost inseparable. They stayed overnight at each other’s homes every weekend. They shared all their secrets and dreams with each other. When the other boys began experimenting with having girlfriends Sid and Andrew didn’t take part. Inevitably it led to teasing and a sense, an implication, that their friendship was somehow not right. The two of them gradually drifted apart.

Sid applied himself totally to hockey and he excelled. He was better than all the other boys so he stood out. He was singled out for more elite training and spent even more time at the rink, forgoing the social aspect of his youth. Even then there were times in the locker room and in the showers that he’d see the other boys’ bodies and feel a rush of desire. Sid would struggle not to let it show, to keep his traitorous body in check but he could not deny the attraction was there. 

He knew he had to do something, knew he had to hide it. He tried fooling around with girls after some of his games like the other guys did. He remembers one night at a party where a girl who was a year or two older than him dragged him into an empty bedroom and started kissing him. Sid went along to see what it felt like and it was okay, he could get into it. But when she put his fumbling hands under her t-shirt and on her breasts if felt all wrong. 

He went through the motions, kissing and fondling her as she demonstrated but he found himself doing it as more of a scientific experiment than for any real desire. Eventually she pushed him down on the bed, unzipped his pants and blew him. That felt good and Sid came embarrassingly fast but it was images of some of his teammates that he had in his mind, not the girl on her knees in front of him.

Sid continued to hook up with willing puck bunnies throughout his junior career. There was never a shortage of willing young women at the rink or at parties after the team’s games. When his teammates started to form more serious relationships Sid didn’t. He told everyone that he didn’t have time to date; he just wanted to concentrate on hockey. And he was so good and such a driven individual that people believed him.

Sid hooked up with women for casual sex when it was offered to him but he didn’t seek women out. He wasn’t really interested in forming any serious or lasting relationships. Over time he got quite proficient at pleasing his partners and tried not to think about the other things; how seeing a well muscled guy could make him hard and how he’d sometimes wake up at night after dreaming of someone larger, more powerful than himself, making love to him.

Sid would feel ashamed afterwards, mortified with himself. He had never attempted anything with any man, and when those feelings had approached he had pushed them away and told himself they were nothing. He had convinced himself that it happened to everyone, that it was normal, had excused it as alcohol induced or labelled it as healthy curiosity. And he had continued to hook up with women.

Until Alex. That was where the pretence had crumbled. With Alex there had been no shame and no sense that his advances had been wrong. Sid had somehow found the courage to explore and discover; had finally allowed himself the feelings and desire he felt. Feelings that had grown with each touch of Alex’s hand, each kiss they had shared and every moment they had spent together – and Sid had fallen in love, really _In LOVE_.

And now that Alex was gone, now that Sid had driven him away, he could find no rest. He was finding that he couldn’t return to who he used to be because it had always been a lie and the truth was now so plain to see that he could no longer reject it. Sid was finding it almost impossible, physically painful to pretend anymore. 

Sid realizes now that he has unconsciously buried who he is. Has agreed to play along to be accepted, to be popular, have money, fame and glory. He has been blinded by the glitz, drawn to the Promised Land, and his performance has been so convincing that, until meeting Alex, Sid has even managed to fool himself. 

He will never love Christine. He will never really love any other “Christine” he’s bound to end up with. None of them will ever stir the feelings or cause the desire Alex has. In time the memories of Alex will fade, Sid will move on, but he will still need larger hands to touch him and a firm body beside him. He will need to be taken, made love to, and made to let go; a strong body on top of him, inside him, and a male scent around him when he comes. 

He doesn’t want to want those things but he does need them. If he denies that, he denies himself and will always be living a lie. Sid will need a boyfriend. No woman will ever be the woman for him. But no other boyfriend will ever be Alex. 

Sid’s not sure how far he’s walked or where he is. He walks along the fences of dark parks empty at night, silent in the softly falling snow. He starts down a main thoroughfare that feeds the exclusive gated communities that comprise this portion of the city. The streets are almost empty, there’s no traffic except for a solitary snow plow that drives by clearing the street. Sid’s terribly cold and regrets again he hadn’t dressed more warmly. Even the vodka isn’t helping.

He comes to the entrance to another gated community with an elaborate sign that he recognizes and without thinking about it, turns in. Sid is careful to hide the bottle back under his coat before he gets to the gate. The guy sitting in the gatehouse recognizes Sid immediately and waves him though. Sid’s been here lots of times. It’s where Geno has a home. The security guy does seem slightly puzzled to see Sid on foot but he doesn’t comment. He’s probably seen stranger things.

Sid walks up a curved street until he reaches the top of a hill where Geno’s house is situated. All the lights are off except for one illuminating the front door. Sid’s not sure if Geno is out or if he’s already gone to bed. He’s completely lost track of time while he’s been walking.

Sid rings the doorbell a couple times but the house remains silent. He tries to remember if Geno has mentioned what he was doing this weekend, if he was going out somewhere. Sid knocks loudly on the door and then rings the bell again. He can hear its chime somewhere far back in the house but no lights come on. He pulls out the vodka and sits down on the front steps with his back to the door to finish it. 

When it’s done Sid tosses it into the tastefully manicured garden that flanks the front stairs. He wraps his arms around his knees and prepares to wait for Geno to come home. At least here he’s out of the wind and snow so he is slightly warmer although the dark and cold within is still threatening to overwhelm him. Sid can feel the all too familiar panic building in the back of his mind and he tries to breathe slowly and deeply to calm himself. It’s not working.

He feels as if he’s alone in the world. The darkness and swirling snow seems as if it is slowly closing in around him. He really should go home he thinks. If Geno were home he would have answered his door by now and Sid can’t stay out here all night. Geno could be overnight at Natasha’s or even out of town. Sid gets up and starts walking down the stairs but stops after only two and has to hang on to the railing for support. 

It is so very cold out. The iron railing is cold in his hand. Sid likes the cold but what if the frost freezes him to this spot before he can leave? Turn him into solid ice like how he is icy inside; numb and incapable of feeling anything except a few raw emotions that have been frozen in place at a point in time when he was in love and felt loved by Alex. 

The stairs suddenly seem awfully steep; if he takes one step he will surely lose his balance and tumble to the bottom. They look terribly hard. He has to sit. If he sits back down he will be safe. Sid clutches onto the railing and slowly eases himself back down on the steps, fighting for air that refuses to fill his lungs.

Sid knows he is completely lost. He’s finally had to admit that he’s become so entangled in his celebrity persona, so caught up in expectations and self-made deceit it has become impossible to see a way out. He can’t see any way out – and the only person who can, or could have, helped him is the man he sacrificed for the very thing he now can’t escape. Sid puts a hand to his throat, trying frantically to open it up and stop his breathing from coming in shallow heaves.

Sid thinks about Alex. He’s found his way out, broken down the door and escaped what Sid is so terribly certain he can’t do himself. He’s moved on, found another man, and made a life for himself according to his own rules. He is living his life openly now and there is no place in it for Sid. No tiny space for him to be with Alex.

The shallow breathing is making Sid dizzy and the swirling wall of snowflakes keeps closing in. This is almost like what one of his panic attack feels like. This is a panic attack Sid belatedly realizes. Sid gasps shudders and hyperventilates more from the apparent insight. It feels like there is no oxygen in the air, none at all. 

In an attempt to drown out the claustrophobia-inducing snowflakes Sid focuses his eyes past them onto path leading towards the street. The path he should be walking down to go home except that he can’t seem to stand up anymore. He’s so fucking useless it makes him want to scream. But he can’t scream, he can’t even breathe – can’t focus on anything except the lack of air. What Sid needs is a brown paper bag but he can’t see any of those around either.

Did people die from panic? His family would definitely be upset then. Surely it would be better to be gay, to love Alex, than to die out here; to freeze to death? If he died out here would Alex even care? How could he? Why would Alex love someone who couldn’t even breathe?

What can he do? Where can Sid go now to feel safe, to feel loved, now that there is no room with Alex? He will always have to lie and pretend, miss Alex and be cold. Clutching his throat tighter, he opens his mouth wide, hoping that air will just float inside him with his minute breaths. It doesn’t work. It just doesn’t work at all, so instead Sid bends his head down between his knees as he continues to wheeze.

His frantic gasping is so loud Sid doesn’t hear the door opening behind him but he does notice more lights coming on and a startled curse in Russian. He looks up in horror as Geno stands next to him and then turns his attention back to the path and his need for oxygen. 

“Sid, what the fuck you doing out here?” Geno mutters. “Are you okay?”

Geno’s wearing sweat pants, an oversized t-shirt and bare feet. How can he be in bare feet when Sid has frozen solid to the stairs, when the cold has turned him into an unfeeling block of ice?

“Sid?” Geno hunches down next to him, looking at him with alarm. Apparently there’s one person in the world who cares if he faints. Or maybe it’s just that he doesn’t want Sid freezing to death on his front step? The hockey press would love that.

Sid manages a slight shake of his head.

“Can’t breathe?”

A few shallow heaves for breath are followed by another small head shake.

“Fuck, Sidney.” Geno puts a big hand on Sid’s shoulder. “Need to calm down,” he tells him in a comforting voice. “Take deep breath. Can do that. Just breathe.”

Sid wants to point out that if he could just take deep breaths there would be no need for this logical advice and no spectacle on his front stairs but all he can manage is a feeble glare – more panicked than sarcastic.

A large hand is rubbing his neck now, massaging in soothing circles but all the touch is accomplishing is to bring tears to his eyes; sad, desperate and frightened tears. Sid looks away, coughs, and chokes on what little air makes it inside him.

Geno quietly sits down on the step above Sid, legs on either side of him and wraps both arms around him, holding his hands flat against Sid’s chest. “You breathe now,” Geno tells him. “Just breathe with me. Follow hands.”

Part of Sid wants to object to the tone; he doesn’t need to be spoken to as if he’s a child. Sid’s heart feels like it’s going to pound out of his chest, he feels like Geno is holding him down but even that feeling is overpowered by his need for oxygen. Geno presses in slightly when he wants Sid to exhale and releases when his lungs are to refill. Speaking softly and breathing with him, breathing for him.

“Okay, Sid, breathe in,” Geno loosens his grip. “Breathe out,” the hands clutch his chest. At first the pace is too slow and Sid takes double counts but gradually he falls into the rhythm. He focuses on the hands, the cold stairs, the oxygen returning to the air around him until he can draw breaths on his own – just as he has always been able to do, his entire life until now.

Slowly Geno stops his movements but keeps his hands on Sid, feeling the natural rise and fall of his ribs. “Better now?”

Sid can’t answer, can only sit and feel the warm hands on his chest. He continues to stare blindly at the stairs and the walkway, afraid if he moves his gaze tears will fall. Geno waits patiently for even a small indication that his question has been heard but after a minute he tries again and asks softly, “Sid, you okay? Can you breathe okay now?”

Sid risks a tiny shake of his head.

“But......”

“No, Sid interrupts with a whisper, “No. I can’t breathe. I can never breathe. I’m not okay.”

Admitting it out loud makes him realize how true the words are and he can feel slow tears escaping down his cheek not moving his gaze from the path. “I’m choking and I just go along and I pretend and I smile. I smile all the time and I can’t.....” Using the palm of his hand he stubbornly wipes off the tears that are now streaming more persistently from his eyes. 

“I can’t....It’s all a lie, I think.” He turns and looks at Geno, pleading with him to understand. “It’s just so difficult.”

Geno’s eyes convey nothing but sympathy and understanding as he quietly puts a hand on Sid’s shoulder and squeezes. The gentle touch makes Sid lose the final grip he has on himself and he starts to tremble. 

“Geno, I don’t know what to do,” his voice comes in stutters and he looks down in a futile attempt to hide the uncontrollable tears. 

Without a word Geno wraps his long arms around Sid and pulls him into a tight embrace. Part of Sid wants to resist, wants to try to be strong, wants to keep control, but he soon gives up, clutching at Geno and pressing his face against Geno’s chest. His chest heaves and his body trembles in Geno’s arms as he breaks down and allows himself to be comforted.

For months he has been numb, has forced himself not to feel, not to think and now the tears won’t stop. Geno’s chin is resting on his shoulder as he rocks him gently. 

Geno murmurs soothingly, “Shhhhh, will be okay, Sid.”

Sid knows Geno is merely trying to comfort him but he still shakes his head in disagreement. He pulls back slightly, tries to get his voice under control but fails miserably as his words come out between subdued sobs. 

“No,” he tells Geno. “It won’t be. How can it? My life isn’t even real. I’m not real and I don’t know how to stop it.”

Geno pulls Sid back in close and runs his hand up and down his back soothingly, making half articulated noises of comfort while Sid finally gets his crying in check. He takes one of two more shuddering breaths before he exhales and just rests his cheek on Geno’s shoulder in silence. He’s suddenly conscious of the shivering that is now wracking his body. 

At the same moment Geno realizes just how cold he must be and looks at him with concern? “Where you come from, Sid? Where is your car?”

Sid rubs his hands together to try to get some feeling back in the before he answers. “It’s at home. I had to walk. Christine was there with her friends and I just had to get out. I had to go. So I just walked and walked and it was snowing and cold and I couldn’t go back so I just kept walking. It’s too hard. I can’t do this anymore.”

Geno gives him a mildly exasperated look and tells him, “Yeah, Sid. You say that already.”

Sid pulls in another shuddering breath and he can feel the tears welling up once more. He’s determined he won’t cry anymore though so clamps his jaw shut and wills himself to be quiet.

Geno reaches out again and puts a hand on Sid’s arm to comfort and tells him, “Sid, you too cold. Come inside. Get warm. You stay here rest of night, okay?”

Sid lets out a loud sniff and nods. It’s too cold to walk all the way home in the snow and he can’t make Geno drive him this time of night. Anyway, he doesn’t think he can face Christine right away. She’ll be pissed at him for leaving in the middle of her dinner party.

Geno pulls him to his feet and guides Sid towards the front door, throwing an arm around his shoulder to steady him. The temperature inside is so much warmer than the outdoors that Sid’s cheeks feel like they are on fire. Geno’s girlfriend Natasha is inside, leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching the two of them. Her hair is sticking out in all directions and she’s wearing no make-up. She looks like she’s just gotten out of bed and she’s wearing a fuzzy pink housecoat and slippers.

Sid is immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just come over like this. I’ll go. I can walk home. Or let me call a cab.”

Geno just starts to laugh. “Sid, you strangest person I know. But my friend. You come any time.”

Natasha is equally as accommodating. “Is okay, Sidney. I go make tea,” she tells him on the way to the kitchen.

Sid lets out a small laugh of his own, at their attempt at homely comforts, gesturing at his own tear-streaked face. “Tea won’t fix this.”

“Tea fix anything,” Geno tells him solemnly and then leads him to the family room and directs him to sit on the couch. In a moment he’s back with a towel that he hands Sid and tells him, “Dry your hair. I get dry clothes.”

He’s gone again, this time upstairs, and Sid scrubs at his wet hair with the provided towel. When he’s done he discreetly dries his nose with his damp sleeve. His face feels tight, as if a rash is forming from the salt drying on his cheeks. 

Soon Geno returns with a pair of sweatpants and a Penguins sweatshirt. He puts them down on the couch beside Sid and hands over a box of tissues.

“Here, blow nose,” he tells Sid. 

Sid immediately does as he’s told. God, how humiliating is this?

Now that the wailing has subsided, Sid suddenly feels very self-conscious and acutely aware that this is not how a man should behave. No matter the break-up circumstances most people managed to seem at least somewhat together, gave the impression that they were coping with the situation in a dignified manner and panic attacks, puffy eyes, and running snot does not convey that very well.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment. “I’m sorry.....about the breathing thing,” Sid tells him. “It’s never been as bad as that before.”

“Was bit extreme,” Geno admits.

“Yeah,” Sid nods, crumpling up the tissue into a tight ball and putting it in his pocket. “I think it was partly the cold. It’s below zero out there, I think.”

“Is cold,” Geno agrees.

“Thanks for coming out and .....” Sid gestures in the general direction of the front door. 

“Is okay, Sid. Why don’t you change into dry clothes. Tasha have tea ready soon.”

Sid picks up the spare clothes and follows Geno to a main floor bathroom. He quickly takes off his wet things and puts on the clothes Geno’s given him. When he’s done he takes a quick glance in the mirror and sees that yes, he really does look as bad as he was afraid he did. He goes back to the family room with his things.

“Just leave them on floor,” Geno tells him. “We wash them in morning.”

Natasha is there now with three cups of tea and sits on the couch beside Sid while Geno watches him from the love seat. Sid picks up the steaming mug in front of him and takes a sip. It’s hot and very sweet and he shuts his eyes and swallows it gratefully.

“Thank you,” he tells them both. Sid takes a deep breath, grateful that he is able to, in preparation for his next words. The panic has kind of been explained but he still needs some sort of excuse for the sea of tears. 

“I’m kind of having a hard time right now,” Sid tells them honestly. He pauses. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“Like say before, Sid. Is no bother,” Geno assures him. “Glad you come here. You stay for night.”

Natasha nods her agreement and then blows softly on her tea before taking a sip.

“You need anything, Sid. Something to eat?” Geno asks uncertainly and a small, sad smile finds Sid’s lips and the sight of their concern. He takes a long shuddering breath before he has another sip of tea.

“Will you guys just sit with me?” Sid asks quietly.

“Course,” Geno assures him and Natasha nods again and pats his knee with one long, elegant hand. They both watch Sid quietly while he drinks his tea. Finally he puts down his mug and looks at Geno. 

He bites his lip for a moment and then exhales loudly before saying, “I think I might be gay.”

“You think?” Geno asks with bland understatement. 

Sid shakes his head lightly. No. The lying, the pretending, his inability to accept facts has to end now. “No. I am. I’m pretty sure about it.”

He turns his head resolutely to meet Geno’s eyes. “I think maybe I’ve always been but I didn’t know. Maybe I suspected a little but not really, not until now. How could I not have known that?”

Geno does his characteristic shrug. “Maybe not ready to know, Sid. Maybe it take meeting someone.....”he trails off. 

“Yeah, I guess it took that for me,” Sid agrees quietly. He lapses into pained silence when his thoughts turn back to Alex. Finally he looks up and blinks away more tears before telling them, “But he’s gone now.”

Natasha makes a motherly clucking noise and pats him on the knee again and Sid swallows back a sob. He can’t keep bursting into tears at any moment, he tells himself, but tonight his emotions are so very close to the surface. He can’t bear to think about Alex, the boyfriend he’s driven away, who’s gone back to Russia, maybe never to return, and has gone on with his life.

“I don’t know how to date guys,” Sid tells them earnestly. “I don’t know what to do.”

“You no good with girls either, Sid,” Geno tells him and Sid smiles tiredly.

“I know.”

He puts down his empty mug and slides further down in the couch, crossing his arms protectively across his chest. 

“I have no idea how to be gay on my own. I can’t keep Christine,” he chortles lightly, knowing he’s making her sound like a pet dog. “And I can’t sign any more morality clauses. I don’t know how to tell people. I don’t know who to tell or what to say and I don’t know what to do with hockey. I don’t even know if I really want to play anymore. I’m just so tired.”

Sid lets his arms fall heavily to his sides, suddenly feeling completely drained; as if all the energy has left him with the tears and the whirl of emotions that had transpired tonight and in recent months.

Geno gives him a sympathetic look and puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder. “Don’t have to do anything right away, Sid. Is no rush. And team always be there for you. You get some sleep, okay. Everything look better in morning.”

With that Geno gets up and hands Sid a pillow and blanket that Natasha had put on the coffee table earlier. 

“Thanks, Geno,” Sid tells him. “Thanks Natasha.” 

He watches as the two of them head back upstairs hand in hand and then Sid plumps up the pillow and lies down on the couch with the blanket over him. His nerves still feel on edge and he’s not sure he’ll be able to sleep at all despite how exhausted he feels. Surprisingly he does manage to drop off and when he wakes up again it is morning.


	13. Chapter 13

As hard as it is to believe at the time, Geno is right. Sid does feel better when he wakes up in the morning. He feels drained but at least the overwhelming sense of panic has ebbed away. Sid takes Geno’s advice and doesn’t do anything right away. He knows he’s got to make some changes in his life. He’s as certain of it in the morning as he was the night before but the urgency is tempered by relief that he’s at least made a decision.

He goes home and apologizes to Christine for disappearing the night before but he also tells her he needs some space. He’s not sure what he wants and he needs some time on his own to think things through. She’s slightly surprised but takes it pretty well considering. Anyway, she’s got work in France at the end of the week so she packs up her stuff and goes back to her own place before she leaves. She tells Sid she’ll call him when she gets a chance.

It’s a relief to have the place to himself again. Sid hadn’t realized how much energy it took just to pretend; to act like Christine is what he wants, that he’s content in his relationship. On the other hand, he’s not exactly ready to start going to any gay bars or trying to meet men online yet either. Sid decides he’s better off on his own for the time being. He’s too much of a mess to inflict himself on anyone.

When Sid goes to practise Monday morning it’s immediately apparent that Geno has spoken to the guys. He no sooner gets in the dressing room when Jordie pulls him into a hug and tells him if he needs anything at all to just call. Flower, Letang and Dupuis all file by and punch him on the arm on the way to the ice. When Sid glares at Geno he only gets a shrug from the Russian before he too walks out, leaving Sid to get his skates on alone.

They do a warm up and then work some of their regular drills. Part way though Sid notices that Mario is at the boards watching them work out. When Mario sees that Sid has noticed him he nods and gestures towards his office upstairs. Sid knows that gesture well. It means come see me after practise. Although Sid nods his agreement he’s not exactly looking forward to the visit. He feels kind of like he’s been summoned to the principal’s office.

The practise eventually wraps up and the guys file off the ice. Geno has been avoiding eye contact with Sid all morning, damn him, frustrating all attempts at conversation. Whenever Sid gets close to Geno the Russian slides away on the pretense of moving to the next exercise. Sid finally gives up but he keeps his eye on Geno while he skates. Geno stays on the ice after everyone else to take some shots at the empty net. Sid sees his chance and corners him before he can escape once again.

When Geno sees Sid bearing down on him he lets out a resigned sigh. “What’s up, Sid?” he asks mildly.

“I was wondering if you’d been talking to Mario?” Sid asks.

The look on Geno’s face is confirmation enough. Of course he has, just like he’s told the guys about Sid’s embarrassing lapse over the weekend. Sid can feel his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

He doesn’t even have to wait for his answer but Geno tells him, “Guys all worried ‘bout you, Sid. Mario too. Is okay to tell friends. Is easier if not all alone.”

Sid’s not so sure he wants everyone in the organization knowing all the details of his love life as dysfunctional as it is but he can recognize the spirit in which Geno has acted. The guy obviously means well. He tries not to sound too angry when he asks, “What exactly did you tell Mario?”

Geno actually looks offended. “Not everything, Sid! Just say you’re having tough time. Not sure what should do. You know.” He shrugs, “You know. I was......” His eyebrows knit together as he pauses a moment and searches for the right word, “discrete,” he concludes with an air of accomplishment.

Sid glowers at Geno. As if. He knows Geno and the rest of the Russians are about as discrete as......tanks.

“Yeah. Right,” Sid tells him dubiously. Mario is no fool. Sid’s quite sure he’s seen the pictures and heard the speculation. He’s probably put two and two together. Sid’s certain of it. He follows Geno off the ice and the two of them shower and change. When he’s ready Sid grabs his bag and heads for Mario’s office to see what his boss has on his mind.

Mario is sitting at his desk, hunched forward reading something on his laptop when Sid comes in and he smiles and gestures towards the chair on the other side of his desk.

“Have a seat, Sid.”

Sid sits down and clasps his hands with an air of unstudied nonchalance, or at least that’s the look he’s going for. In reality he’s fighting not to let his knee bounce up and down nervously while he waits for Mario to start questioning him. Mario closes his laptop and leans back in his chair with his arms loosely crossed and studies Sid intently. Sid smiles gamely back at him. He can feel the hairs prickling on the back of his neck.

“How are you holding up, Sid?” Mario asks him.

“Good,” Sid tells him breezily until Mario silences him with an impatient wave of one hand. So much for that attempt at a deflection.

“Well, okay. I just....” Sid starts. “I’ve just been having kind of a hard time.....”  
he finally hears himself say, echoing Geno’s exact words. Jesus. It’s pretty bad when the best you can do is parrot someone who speaks English as a second language.

“Yeah, Geno came to talk to me yesterday,” Mario admits. When Sid opens his mouth to speak again Mario holds up his hand again to stop him.

“I just want you to listen to me for a couple minutes, okay Sid?” he says. He waits until Sid shuts his mouth and nods yes.

Mario gives him a heartfelt smile and his eyes crinkle. He leans forward and rests his forearms on the desk, getting in close. Sid can see he loves this part. Mario is getting ready to bestow wisdom on him, whether he wants it or not. He hasn’t done it a lot over the years, but Sid knows that when he gets like this it’s serious business.

“Sid, I’ve known you a long time now,” he starts. “I think of you like one of my kids. You know that.”

He pauses until Sid nods in acknowledgement before he continues. “Nathalie and I have been married a long time. Four children. Lots of ups and down.” He nods thoughtfully to himself.

Sid nods along blankly. He’s not exactly sure where Mario is going with this. Mario must sense that Sid is perplexed because he explains further. “It’s not always been easy. Especially with my line of work. The two of us, we wanted the same things and we love each other but with kids and hockey and business.....” he waves his arms vaguely. “Marriage can be hard work.”

Sid gets the point. He spent five years living at the Lemieux home. He remembers how crazy it could get and how Nathalie held things together a lot of the time when Mario was busy with the team or out of town.

“What I’m trying to say Sid, what I want to tell you is you want to be sure. Marriage is a big commitment and you want to make sure it’s to the right person. You need to be sure of what you want. And the two of you need to want the same things to make it work.”

Sid can feel a hysterical laugh struggling to burst out. Mario doesn’t appear to realize how much Christine isn’t the right person for Sid or what he really wants. He fights down a nervous giggle and looks impassively at Mario, waiting for him to continue. He has the horrible feeling that the side of his face is twitching.

“You were always so great with my kids, Sid. I always thought you’d want a family when you got married. I figured you’d marry someone who wanted the same things.”

Sid looks up, surprised. “I do like kids,” he tells Mario. He means it. Living with Mario’s family was great; some of the best times he can think of.

Mario shakes his head and can’t help but frowns a little. “Well then Sid, if you want kids one day Christine might not be the one for you. She’s probably not that girl,” he tells him. Mario speaks slowly as if he’s not sure Sid will follow.

Sid blinks at him. He kind of knows this without hearing it from Mario. He’s just never thought that far ahead. He’s never really had much of a long range plan other than playing hockey and scoring as many goals and winning as many Stanley Cups as he can. He’s always known it would end one day and then he’d settle down but he’s never pictured who it would be with. Mario mistakes his silence for disagreement and tries to temper his advice.

“Now, Sid. Christine is a lovely girl. Don’t get me wrong. Very pretty. And I don’t know her that well but she doesn’t seem like someone who’s going to be a homebody. And with your career, with the travel, someone needs to be the one to stay home. I’m not saying it’s right or wrong, it’s just how it is. I’m just being realistic.”

Sid nods along. He thinks he should probably come clean and just tell Mario he’s gay; tell him that he’s already decided Christine is not going to work out regardless of whether she wants a family or not. He knows Christine is not right for him it’s just not for the reason Mario is talking about.

Mario continues, not giving Sid any time to speak. “You’ve spent all your time thinking about hockey, and I’m not saying that’s bad, it’s just that you need to take care of your personal life too, Sid. You have to find a balance. Sid, you’re a good person. And you should look for what it is that makes you happy. You deserve it.”

Mario smiles fondly and leans forward, “Sid, you haven’t had a lot of experience with women.”

Sid opens his mouth to object and Mario holds up his hand once more. “I mean experience in relationships with women, Sid,” and Sid slumps back down and snaps his mouth shut.

“I guess what I’m trying to tell you is, don’t sell yourself short. And don’t just settle. Don’t choose the first girl who’s interested because it seems like the obvious thing to do. Really think about what it is you want to do with your life before you make that kind of decision.”

Mario watches Sid carefully as if he’s trying to make sure he understands. “Okay? Promise me you’ll think things through?”

“Okay,” Sid hears himself agree.

Mario gives him a smile. “Good. And Sid, you know you can talk to me any time, right? I mean about anything. Any time,” he emphasizes more strongly. Mario watches Sid intently when he says it and it’s almost enough to make Sid squirm.

As he waits for Sid to acknowledge his words it dawns on Sid that Mario surely must know more than he’s letting on. There are obviously things he’s leaving unsaid and he’s just waiting now, giving Sid an opening to speak. Sid knows that now would be the time to just fucking tell Mario.......except he just can’t start. The words won’t come even though Mario is leaning back and waiting expectantly.

His suspicions are confirmed when Mario puts his palms down flat on the desk and sighs. He tells Sid, “Look, I realize this must be hard for you and I’m only going to mention it this one time.” He pauses a moment for effect before telling Sid, “If you decide it’s not a girl you want to settle down with, then that’s alright too. I’m not saying it would be the easiest thing but.....”

He watches Sid carefully for his reaction and Sid nods thoughtfully at his words. He can feel a warm flush creeping up over his face and his stomach twists at the realization that Mario does know. It’s good to hear that Mario is alright with it and Sid tells him, “Thanks, Mario.”

Mario smiles at him. “You don’t need to thank me, Sid. Like I said, you’re like a son to me. Whether you decide you’re gay or not won’t change that. I will always have the utmost respect for you as a person.”

Sid still feels his guts lurch when Mario says the g word and he lets out a slow breath and then nods again. He still doesn’t have anything to say. In the back of his mind he’s still rolling over the idea of how being gay and wanting to have a family could actually work. He’s never really thought about that one; thanks very much Mario. Sid’s a gifted athlete but making babies is no doubt beyond his body’s many possibilities.

He looks up when Mario continues, “Sid, you need to know that this organization would support you on this. It’s up to you what you decide but whatever it is you will always have a place with the Penguins. And I mean that. We want you to be happy. Alright?”  
“Okay,” Sid tells him.

“Alright then,” Mario nods. “I’m glad we had this chance to talk, Sid. It’s been too long. Now, you better go get some lunch. And I’ve got some work to do before I go home. We’re good?”

“Yeah, we’re good,” Sid tells him. He realizes he’s probably said about five words the whole time.

He gets up to shake Mario’s hand. Mario comes around the desk and takes the offered hand but instead of just shaking he pulls Sid into a tight hug. Sid wraps his arms tightly around Mario and hugs him back. Mario has been a real mentor to Sid over the years, almost like another father. It means more than Sid realized that Mario is okay with this. He feels as if an enormous weight has been taken off his shoulders. When Sid heads home he feels better than he has in a while.

 

************************************

 

Sid notices something in the next few weeks that pisses him off at first and then makes him realize how fortunate he is to be surrounded by good people. That it takes him so long to clue in, he chalks up to the fact that he continues to be completely and utterly socially inept. Some things never change. Sid justifies it by the fact they are having a pretty decent season. It’s easy to overlook things when you’re distracted by the hockey.

But after numerous invites to teammates’ homes for dinner and at least another ten group pub nights he realizes why he’s suddenly so popular. Everyone is reluctant to leave him on his own. Even Mario and Nathalie, with their crazy household, have been inviting him over at least once a week when he’d not been there in the previous six months. Not that Sid is complaining about that particular arrangement. Nathalie’s been making all Sid’s favorites from when he lived with them.

It’s when Sid’s over at Jordie’s for dinner after an afternoon practise, which is farcical because Jordie is notorious for not being able to cook, that it comes to Sid. Jordie is still getting changed and Sid wanders through the kitchen and opens the fridge to grab something to drink. Besides the expected beer it looks as if Jordie had bought out Whole Foods. There is a wild assortment of cartons inside, from salads to premade entrees that only require warming. Sid looks up when he hears Jordie coming in the room.

“Hey, help yourself to a beer, Sid,” Jordie tells him.

Sid nods and grabs a couple bottles and shuts the fridge. He twists the cap off one and hands it to Jordie before opening another for himself. He swallows some before putting it down and leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. He levels an appraising look at Jordie.

“What?” Jordie asks.

“What’s going on?” Sid asks him.

“What are you talking about,” Jordie asks, struggling for an indignant air.

“Is it your turn to have me over for dinner tonight?”

The sheepish look gives Jordie away immediately and when Sid just keeps looking at him and raises an eyebrow he caves in completely.

“Okay, okay,” he admits reluctantly. “Mario might have talked to us. But it’s not like we don’t like having you around, Sid! I mean, we like having you over. We’re glad to do it!”

As much as it annoys Sid that he’s become some sort of charity case he does realize that everyone means well. It’s just, Jesus Christ. He sighs and shakes his head.

“Look, I appreciate what you’re all doing. But you don’t have to, you know. I’m fine. It’s not like I used to go out all the time anyway. I mean, mostly I’d just practise, you know, and then sit around at night and watch sports or play video games.”

Jordie cheers at that idea. “Well, we can do some of that once I make dinner?”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Sid tells him and then adds, “You mean warm up dinner.”

Jordie takes another drink of beer and laughs. “Yeah, whatever.”

He takes one of the containers out of the fridge and looks at Sid. “So, how long do you think I should microwave this shit for?”

Once they’ve worked their way through a good bit of the food Jordie had bought they sit in the living room and turn on the TV to see what’s happening in the league while they have another beer. They both chuckle when they see the Flyers have lost to Boston, leaving them in the cellar of their conference while the Penguins are only three points out of first place. It’s still early but so far things are looking promising.

Once the sports are finished Jordie turns to Sid and tells him, “Hey, Sid, you know the guy who lives in the place next to me here? The one with the black Porsche?”

“Yeah?” Sid knows the car. He’s seen the guy washing it. It’s a pretty sweet ride.

“I was talking to him the other day on the way to practise.”

Sid nods agreeably.

“Yeah, and he was saying to me that he’s just split up with.....um, his partner.”

“Partner?” Sid asks blankly. He’s thinking, like in business partner here.

“Yeah, you know.....he’s um....gay,” Jordie gets out in a subdued tone, as if it’s a word he’s not quite sure how to pronounce.

Sid stares down at his bottle and starts picking at the label before looking back up at Jordie and asking, “And your point is?”

“Well, I was just thinking that if, you know, you ever wanted to maybe meet him I could introduce you two. I mean, he’s a nice guy.”

“You mean like to date?” Sid asks. Sid finds he’s being deliberately obtuse just so he can see Jordie squirm.

“Yeah. I mean, if you were into it,” Jordie assures him quickly.

“I don’t think so. I’m not really interested at the moment,” Sid tells him.

“Well, think about it,” Jordie urges him. “I’ve sometimes found that, you know, after a break up it can help to just you know, get back on the horse.”

Sid continues to inspect the tattered label on his beer while he considers what Jordie said. When he looks back up Jordie is peering at him earnestly, nervously waiting to see how his unsolicited advice is going over. Sid’s not sure what’s more comical; the look on Jordie’s face or the fact that he feels he should be issuing gay dating advice. Sid tries to nod thoughtfully but instead he can’t help but start laughing.

“What?” Jordie huffs indignantly.

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation,” Sid tells him before he bursts into another fit of uncontrollable giggles.

Jordie looks offended for a moment before he starts to laugh too and shakes his head. “Tell me about it.”

The two of them sit back and laugh at the thought of Jordie offering to try to set up his captain with the gay neighbour. Sid appreciates the offer even if he isn’t interested. It’s certainly a testament to the team that the guys are so willing to venture into uncharted territory.

Sid remembers the guy. He’s good looking and fit and around Sid’s age, maybe a year or two older. He’s driving a Porsche so he must be fairly successful and obviously he’s got a home in a nice community. There’s really only one guy Sid wants at the moment and unfortunately he’s currently located on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean.

 

*****************************************

 

Two weeks before Christmas the Penguins are in first place in their division and fourth overall in the league. It’s a position they haven’t been in a long time and it’s giving everyone a new outlook. They’re going into games confident that they will, if not win, at least hold their own. Sid’s having the best season he’s had in years and there’s premature talk of the Hart Trophy if Pittsburgh finishes the year well.

Sid’s still getting invited for dinner a lot but now he’s insisting on having the guys over to his place some of the time too so it’s not completely one sided. They’ve played the Caps twice and beat them both times. There’s been no sign of Alex either on the ice or the bench at either game. Semin has warmed up enough to Sid to at least nod at him in curt acknowledgement when they meet on the ice. It’s not exactly warm and fuzzy but it’s better than things used to be.

Sid’s looking forward to Christmas. His parents are coming down and staying until after the New Year. Taylor’s coming down on the weekend as soon as she’s finished her exams. If it’s like any other visit she’ll come to all the practises and watch the games with Mario in the owner’s box. Not that Sid minds having her around, generally, she’s his only sister and he enjoys her company. On the other hand, if she busts his ass much more about the photos he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

The Penguin’s swing though a short road trip south, beating first Tampa Bay and then Florida before blowing a two goal lead and losing to Carolina in overtime. Sid shakes his head over that one and writes it off as a bad night. They come home determined to redeem themselves in front of their fans when they play four games at home before Christmas.

Two nights later they are playing the Canucks to a packed house and the Penguins come back from their embarrassing loss with a great game. It’s a close one, both teams are playing well, but it’s wide open and highlighted with end to end rushes and brilliant goaltending. Krylov is in the net and it’s because of him that the Penguins are still in the game after the second period. They’ve been outshot 24 to 13 and it’s tied 1 – 1.

The team comes out flying for the third period. Selander scores a quick goal in the second minute and the tide is turned. Geno gets another one at the halfway mark and although the Canucks come back the Penguins hang on to win the game 3 – 1. Sid is beat at the end of the game. He feels like he’s skated a hundred miles.

Despite his exhaustion Sid is elated with the win. The team has managed to stand up to tremendous pressure without caving. Krylov kept them in the game until they could mount an offence of their own and has shown real maturity. The game demonstrates to Sid how, despite the disappointment in his personal life, hockey can still raise his mood and provide real happiness. It may not be everything anymore but it’s still pretty good.

The next day he picks up Taylor at the airport and takes her out for lunch. It’s an off day and he’s got nothing else booked, just some quality time with his little sister. They go to a trendy new place he thinks she’s like and they order drinks and check out the menu while they catch up.

“So, what’s new?” Taylor asks him.

Sid shrugs. “Not much. Team’s playing good. I’m doing okay. I’ve got 21 goals,” he tells her.

Taylor rolls her eyes. “Yeah, I watch the sports news, Sid. Honestly.”

She takes a minute to sip her wine when it arrives and then continues. “I was thinking more of your personal life. I was talking to mom last week and she said she hasn’t talked to you in a while.”

“Yeah. I’ve been busy, I guess,” Sid tells her. It’s not like he’s been avoiding his parents really. He really has been busy with shit. He doesn’t really feel like explaining that his team seems to think he needs watching and so they take turns having him over. That’s a story he hopes his family doesn’t get to hear.

Taylor gives him an appraising look. “So, where is.......Christine,” she asks, watching Sid over the rim of her glass.

“She’s in Europe,” Sid tells her casually before taking a drink of his beer. “Been there for a couple months now. Working.”

“Is she coming home for Christmas?”

“Nope. She’s going to spend it in France with her mom again this year,” Sid says.

“Really?” Taylor seems surprised.

They both stop a moment when the waitress returns with their food and puts their meals down in front of them. Taylor takes a mouthful of salad before she turns back to Sid and frowns at him.

“Why?” Sid asks, not really sure he wants to know the answer.

“Just doesn’t seem like something a fiancé would be doing,” she comments.

Sid sighs. He hasn’t told his family about his decision to call things off with Christine. He hasn’t told anyone really. The team knows a bit. Of course, Geno knows from being present for his meltdown and Sid’s told Jordie that he and Christine are taking some time off. The rest of the guys know indirectly that there’s not going to be a wedding anytime soon and are quite frankly, quite happy about it.

Sid thinks that’s the reason he’s been hesitant to tell his family. He’s pretty sure their reaction will be much the same. He figures now is as good a time as any to confirm his suspicion.

“Well, actually Tay, Christine and I are kind of taking a step back right now.”

“Meaning what?”

“Well, we decided it might be a good idea to spend some time apart, you know? Anyway, I’ve only got a few days off at Christmas and she’s got to be back right after New Year’s. It was hardly worth flying back here.”

Sid puts a piece of steak in his mouth and chews while Taylor waits impatiently for him to continue.

“Christ, Sid. She’s traveling all the time. Exactly how much time do you actually spend together?”

“I don’t know. We’ve known each other a while, Taylor. We do stuff together.”

Taylor doesn’t look convinced. “So, does that mean that your engagement is off?”

She looks quite pleased when she asks and Sid looks nervously around the restaurant as if there may be some sports reporters eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Yeah, basically,” Sid confirms. He hasn’t really told Christine in so many words but he intends to, you know, when it’s a good time.

“Good,” Taylor tells him before she crunches down on her salad. “I don’t think she’s right for you,” she says around a mouthful of food. “But you really should tell mom and dad, Sid. Neither of them thinks so either.” Taylor delivers this with the candor only a younger sister can deliver.

Sid looks down at his plate and pokes at what’s left of his steak. It’s not like this is a surprise. He’s kind of suspected as much although neither his mother nor father have come out and said anything to him about his decision. He’s a little offended that they would just let him do something they obviously think is a mistake.

“Why didn’t they say anything?” he asks his sister “I knew they were a bit surprised.....”

Taylor shrugs. “I asked the same thing. But they told me that you’re an adult and that it wasn’t their business. And that they’d have to trust that you’d do the right thing.”  
She spears a piece of tomato and pops it in her mouth. When she’s finished it she smiles at Sid and tells him, “And I guess they were right. You’ve obviously come to your senses.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Sid sighs. “I’ll tell them when they come down. Christmas is coming. It can be an extra present.”

She looks at him suspiciously and then continues, “Just don’t change your mind when she comes back and starts hanging all over you again.”

Taylor sticks her chest out and makes a gesture of adjusting her cleavage in a pretty good impersonation of Christine and it makes Sid laugh.

“Make sure you do your thinking with your head,” She tells him.

“Yeah. Don’t worry. That’s not really the problem,” Sid tells her. If only she knew how much of a non-issue Christine’s breasts are, Sid thinks as he finishes his lunch.

 

***************************************

 

The next night they are playing Philadelphia again. The Flyers are having a terrible year, still well back in the standings. It should be an easy game for the Penguins but it’s not. The Flyers are a handful. They’re playing that close, slightly nasty kind of game they can be so effective at. It’s designed to keep the Penguins frustrated and off their game; a little hook, a hard, late check in the boards, a bit of a glove to the face when pushing off and it’s working. Sid can see the team, particularly the less experienced ones, losing their focus.

Geno even forgets himself and slashes back and gets called for a penalty. The Flyers score on the power play and the period ends with Philadelphia leading 1 – 0. Jesus, Sid really can’t stand these guys. Everyone is muttering in the dressing room and Selander is getting stitches in his upper lip for a cut from a high stick which the ref seemed to have missed. Sid sits down and shakes his head. He knows he needs to calm down himself before he does more damage than good out there. He’s one more bad call away from going all whiny on the officials and then he’ll end up getting a penalty himself or worse, get himself kicked out of the game.

The coach says a few things to settle them down and the players seem to heed his advice. Once everyone’s had a bit of time to vent they have a bit better outlook on things. Hell, the Flyers have one of the worst records in the league and if the Penguins can get back on their game they should have no problem beating them. They are the more talented team by far.

The second period starts well when Selander finally gets loose in the goal crease and scores to tie game. It’s not the prettiest goal but hey, they’ll take it. The Penguins redouble their efforts, out-skating the other team and beating them to the puck. It pays off. Sid sets up Selander for a goal and then scores one himself and just like that, the whole complexion of the game has changed.

With five minutes left in the second Letang gets the puck along the boards and passes it to Sid, freeing him on a breakaway. He races up the ice at full speed with no one between him and the goal except for the Flyers’ goalie. He’s focusing on a gap he can see opening up between the corner of the net and the goalie’s left shoulder and he prepares to get off a shot. Sid doesn’t see what happens next but all of a sudden he’s going down, knocked off his skates by......something and sliding head first towards the boards. It happens so fast he doesn’t have time to get his arms out and then everything goes black.

 

************************************

 

The room is dimly lit. The first thing Sid is aware of when he wakes is the need to cough but when he does it feels like his body may come apart. His throat is sore and he can’t seem to move his head. When he tries to reach up with his hand to feel his face he can’t seem to move his arm from his side either. Sid can hear hushed but urgent voices and some kind of alarm going off and then as quickly as he’d woken up he’s drifting off into a numbing sleep again and the pain ebbs away.

The next time he wakes up it is daytime. His throat still hurts and when he tries to call out he finds that he can’t make a sound. His eyes feel dry and if he concentrates really hard he can move his eyelids but that seems to be almost all he can do. He tries as hard as he can and finally scratches his fingers over the bed sheet but even doing that leaves him so exhausted he shuts his eyes again and drifts off.

Sid does this a few more times, floating up into muddled consciousness just long enough to determine that nothing has changed before drifting back down again. Each time there’s the urge to cough, the pain and a constant beep, beep, beeping sound that seems to surround him. It’s always easier just to go back to sleep, to escape the raw pain, so that’s what Sid does. Anyway, he’s just so damn tired it feels like his eyelids are being pulled down.

When Sid wakes once more the room is dimly lit but he can see a woman standing over him and when he opens his eyes she smiles at him.

“Sid, it’s good to see you back with us,” she says gently.

Sid tries to say something but he can’t make a sound and the effort makes him want to start coughing again. The coughing brings on a familiar stabbing pain.

“It’s okay, Sid,” the woman tells him. “You’re in the hospital and I’m your nurse tonight. You won’t be able to talk right now because there is a tube down your throat that’s helping you breathe. We’ve been giving you sedation so that ventilator can do the work and let your body heal. You’ve got some broken ribs and a serious head injury so you need to take it easy.”

Sid tries to focus on her words but the room is spinning and he feels so incredibly tired that he has to fight to keep his eyes open. He watches as the nurse makes some adjustments on a machine beside him and then studies some kind of monitor for a moment.   
The nurse turns back to him and takes his hand for a moment. 

“I’ve going to give you something so that you sleep. Your vitals are much better but you still need to rest. When the doctor comes in the morning we’re going to see about taking that tube out so we can see how you do breathing on your own.”

Sid wants to ask what’s going on, find out what he’s doing in a hospital, but he watches the nurse inject something into his IV line and he drifts off again. When he wakes up the next morning there are more people in the room. There’s a young woman with a stethoscope leaning over him and a man and a woman behind her discussing something he can’t make out.

The second woman steps forward and smiles down at him.

“Hi, Sid. I’m Dr. James. We are going to take you off the ventilator this morning and see how you do.”

The man steps up to the side of the bed and starts doing something outside of Sid’s vision and the sound he’s been hearing over and over finally stops. He leans over and tells Sid, “I’m Chris. I’m a respiratory therapist. I look after this equipment here. We’ve turned off the ventilator.”

Dr. James leans over him and tells him, “Alright, I’m going to take that tube out. I want you to cough.”

Sid feels a sliding pain in his throat and he coughs as he’s been told to. His mouth is dry and he runs his tongue over cracked lips. He tries to form words but his tongue is thick and awkward in his mouth and all that comes out is a garbled sound. He feels like he’s struggling for air.

“It’s okay, Sid. Just breathe normally. Slow, deep breaths.”

He does as instructed and gradually it becomes easier. He licks his lips again and makes another attempt to speak.

“Throat.......” he rasps. “Sore.”

“It’s too be expected, Sid. The ET tube is irritating. That will go away. Here, Shelley will give you something to drink.”

She steps back and the nurse steps forward, holding a cup with a straw and puts the end of the straw in his mouth.

“Go ahead and drink,” she tells him and Sid takes a cautious sip. It tastes amazing. He takes a couple more sips and then drops his head back on the pillow exhausted.

The nurse, Shelley, listens to his chest again and then studies the pumps and monitors at the side of his bed while Dr. James talks to Chris about oxygen stats. Sid has no idea what they mean by that. He does discover than he really feels like he needs to take a piss so he struggles to lean forward.

“Bathroom,” he tells the nurse. His voice is returning although it is still very weak.  
Shelley shakes her head. “You have a catheter, Sid. I know it makes you feel as if you need to go but your urine is draining into a bag right now,” she tells him and Sid shuts his eyes again in mortification.

“Shit,” he manages to lisp.

She smiles sympathetically and tells him, “We should be able to take it out before too long. Once we see how you are doing.”

Sid only nods. He sincerely hopes so. Shelley starts writing on a clipboard and Sid looks around the room. It’s stark and bare but with a few touches to make it less institutional; a painting on the wall, some Christmas cards pinned to a bulletin board by the window along with a Mylar balloon that says get well soon on it. The balloon looks a little the worse for wear, it’s partly deflated and has been pinned to the board so it stays up.

Sid squints at the cards and wonders how long he’s been here. He looks at Shelley and asks, “What happened?”

She smiles at him again and goes back to her notes for a moment before she puts down the clipboard and takes his hand.

“Dr. James has gone to call your parents, Sid. They should be here soon and then she will meet with you all. She can answer your questions then. But for now we need you to rest, okay?”

Sid nods. That sounds good. He has almost no energy at all. It’s all he can do to hold his head up and look around and bringing his hand up to his parched lips leaves him completely drained. He turns his head on the pillow so that he can see out the window but has to squint at the brightness and eventually has to look away. It’s starting to make his head throb.

Shelley looks at him carefully and must notice his discomfort because she says, “Do you need something for pain?”

“No, it’s not that bad,” Sid tells her.

“Okay, but you let me know if you do, alright? The doctor has left a standing order if you need it.”

“Yeah, okay,”

 

***************************

 

The next time Sid opens his eyes his parents are standing over him and his mother is crying. His father looks like he’s close to joining her. They look tired and thinner than Sid remembers them and both look like they’ve aged ten years. Sid’s mom takes his hand and smiles at him tremulously.

“Sidney, honey,” she starts before dissolving into more tears.

“Mom,” he rasps. “What’s going on? When did you come down?”

His parents weren’t supposed to be in town for another couple weeks or so he thought. Sid’s dad shakes his head.

“We came down as soon as we heard about the accident, son,” he says. “We’ve been here ever since.”

“Since....,” Sid starts, puzzled. “How long has it been?”

His mother starts crying harder and his dad coughs and then clears his throat before answering, “It’s been four weeks.” His voice is choked with emotion when he finishes, “It’s been a long wait.”

Sid looks from one to another and then looks again at the balloon and the get well cards and shakes his head. It can’t be. What the hell happened? The movement makes his head throb harder and he winces before running his hand along the side of his head over the stubble of hair growing there. It feels like he’s had a buzz cut like when he was a kid and he gives his mom a puzzled look.

Trina sniffs loudly and takes his hand again she he drops it to his side. “You needed an operation, Sid. They had to shave the side of your head.” She forces an encouraging smile and tells him, “It’s growing back now though. Maybe we can get someone to come in and cut the other side so it’s even, now that you’re......awake,” the last word is lost in another bout of sobs.

“Sorry, mom,” Sid immediately tells her. He’s obviously put them through hell. “It’ll be okay, don’t cry.”

“We know, Sidney,” his dad tells him. “We’ve just been damn worried about you. Taylor is, has been too. She was here the whole time over her holiday but we made her go back to school and promised we’d call her if, when there was a change. She’s going to come down to see you on the weekend. She told us to tell you it’s about time you woke up.” He smiles fondly at her words.

Sid looks across at the bedside table and sees his water sitting there. He’s incredibly thirsty again so he asks him mom, “Mom? Can you pass me my water?”

Trina responds immediately and holds the cup for him and even places the straw in his mouth. Sid takes a sip and then another before telling her, “Thanks.” He hates feeling so helpless and can’t wait to get up out of this bed.

Dr. James comes in at that moment and addresses Trina and Troy. “Good, I’m glad you’re here,” she tells them with a smile. “I’m just going to do a neuro assessment on Sidney and then we can have a talk.”

She glances at the two chairs against the wall and Sid’s parents take the hint and step away from the bed and sit down. They watch as the physician takes Sid’s right hand in hers and tells Sid, “Okay, squeeze my hand, Sid.”

Sid squeezes as he’s been told and the doctor nods. “Good.”

Sid’s not so sure how good it is. He feels as weak as a kitten. He watches as the doctor goes around to the other side of the bed and takes his other hand. “Okay, again.”  
He squeezes again but this time the doctor frowns slightly and says, “Try again?”

Sid squeezes as hard as he can and the doctor nods thoughtfully before going to the foot of the bed. She pulls the sheets up so Sid’s feet are bared. “Okay, Sid, move your right foot?”

Sid wiggles his toes and is reassured when he can see them moving. “And the other side?”  
Sid wiggles his left toes and feels a sense of accomplishment when they respond as well. “Okay, now lift your right leg, Sid?”

Sid’s brows furrow in concentration and it takes all his willpower to raise his foot off the bed. The effort makes him sink his head back on the pillow when he’s done. That was fucking hard. Dr. James nods. “Good. Now do the same with the left?”

Sid tries to lift his left leg but he’s got no strength there at all. His foot goes up a little on the mattress but there’s no way he can do the same as the right. He stops trying and looks up at the ceiling in frustration. He’s never felt anything like this before.

“Okay, that’s fine for now, Sid,” Dr. James tells him as she rearranges the sheets. “I’m going to order some more tests and we’ll get them done in the next couple days as you get a little stronger. I don’t want to hit you with too much all at once.”

She looks back at Sid’s ashen faced parents and tells them, “Why don’t you pull the chairs a little closer and we’ll have a chat.”

Trina and Troy slide their chairs to Sid’s bedside and Trina takes Sid’s hand in hers again. Sid squeezes it, as much to reassure himself as his mother. He feels like he needs to hold on, try to hold himself together in the face of what’s going on. He looks up at Dr. James and waits to hear what he has to say.

The physician pulls up another chair beside Troy and looks at Sid intently. “Alright, Sid. As you are no doubt aware by now, you’ve been unconscious for some time. That was partly our doing. You suffered a very serious head injury in your last game and had considerable bleeding inside your skull.

“Concussion?” Sid asks, dreading that the answer is yes again. He can already see where this is going. Fuck it.

The doctor shakes her head. “I’m afraid it was, is, a lot more serious than that, Sid. The bleeding, coupled with swelling from the trauma to your brain tissue caused a dangerous increase in pressure inside your skull. We had to perform an operation to relieve the pressure but as you can see you have some neuro deficits on the left side. Those should decrease as time goes on but, as I’m sure you appreciate, at the moment they are significant.”

Sid looks at his dad. His mouth is set determinedly and he’s staring blankly at the wall above Sid’s head. Sid’s mom picks up Sid’s hand in both of hers and Sid squeezes it again just because he fucking can. He doesn’t understand some of the stuff he’s hearing but is getting just enough to tell this is a fucking nightmare.

The doctor continues. “We felt it was best to keep you sedated and ventilated after the surgery to give your body some time to heal. You also suffered some rib fractures in the incident and have had a couple bouts of pneumonia in the past weeks.” She finishes her laundry list of things that are wrong with Sid with an encouraging smile. “You had us quite worried for a while there.”

“Sorry?” Sid tells them all.

Dr. James chuckles softly. “No need to apologize, Sid. I also just want to assure you that you are in good hands here. This hospital is a level one trauma center and we have all the equipment and expertise to provide you with the care you’ll need during you’re recovery. Now, do you have any questions?”

Sid runs his tongue over his dry lips and his mom reaches for his water immediately. He takes a sip before he turns to the doctor.

“When will I be able to play again?”

Dr. James takes a couple seconds to answer and in that time Sid can hear his mom dissolve into more tears. She puts down the glass and picks up Sid’s hand again.

The doctor looks at Sid seriously. “I’m not sure what to tell you at this stage, Sid. You have a long recovery ahead of you. I’m aware of your history with concussion. This is not the same thing. Your brain has suffered major trauma. Having said that, it is an amazing organ so it is difficult to predict how well it mayl recover. You could very well regain full movement in time but it will definitely take a great deal of rehab. And hard work on your part.”

Sid nods thoughtfully. He’s used to hard work. His heart sinks though when the doctor looks at his parents and then turns back to him before telling him, “I have to warn you though that the chances of you recovering enough to resume a professional hockey career are quite.......unlikely.”

Sid can’t help but squeeze down on his mother’s hand at the news and he has to swallow hard. There’s no surprise on his parents faces at all. They’ve already heard this news. They know his hockey career is finished. Trina takes a tissue from the box on Sid’s bedside table and blows her nose.

“I don’t want to be too pessimistic, Sid. But I need you to know what you are up against. There is a very good likelihood that you have suffered a career ending injury. I’m very sorry.”

Dr. James leans forward and puts a hand on Sid’s shoulder. There’s no doubt in Sid’s mind that she means every word of what she says.

“Now, I’m going to give you a few days to build up your strength and see if we can get your chest cleared up and then, like I said before, I’m going to send you for another CT and an MRI to get another look at your head. After that we’ll be arranging for physio and OT.”

“OT?” Sid asks.

“An occupational therapist,” Dr. James tells him. “They are going to work with you so that you can regain the movement and strength on your left side.”

Sid nods glumly. His head is reeling at the news as it starts to sink in. Dr. James must recognize the terrified look on his face because she continues.

“You were a young, fit man at the time of the accident, Sid. So there is no reason why your prognosis won’t be favorable. But you can’t expect anything overnight. You need to know that. We have an excellent rehab program here and if you work with them then I’ve no doubt that you will recover well.”

She gives Sid another reassuring pat. “Now, Shelley told me you were concerned with the catheter. I’ll arrange to have that removed in the morning and we’ll start to get you up out of bed some more and see how you tolerate it. Alright?”

Sid can feel himself flush but he nods at the good news. He hates this lying in bed and having things brought to him. He needs to get up and get going again.

“Now, I better get going. I’ve got some surgeries this afternoon,” Dr. James tells them. “If you think of any more questions please feel free to ask the nursing staff.”

“Thanks,” Sid tells her before she leaves.

Once the doctor is gone they sit in silence. Trina still has a death grip on Sid’s hand and Troy is just staring at the wall behind Sid’s bed. His eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Sid just shakes his head. Now that the doctor has gone and he doesn’t have to concentrate on his words and be brave he feels like he’s going to cry too. His throat is tight with emotion and he pulls in a shuddering breath.

“It’s going to be okay, Sidney,” his mother tries to sooth. It’s not very reassuring. She’s crying too.

Sid shakes his head. How can it be okay if he can’t play hockey? He’s embarrassed when he can feel a tear rolling down his cheek and he pulls his hand from his mom’s grasp so he can wipe it away.

“Can we get you anything, son?” Troy asks helplessly.

Sid gulps convulsively. “No,” he manages to get out. And then, “I’d just really like to be alone for a while. If that’s okay?” he adds tightly.

He looks from one to the other and they both nod and then get up reluctantly. “Alright, son. We’ll give you a bit of time to digest the news. We know it’s really hard for you right now.”

Trina nods in agreement. “We’ll come back later. After you’ve had a rest. Okay.”

Sid nods again as the two of them prepare to go. His mom kisses him on the forehead and smoothes back his hair. She gives him one more concerned look before they leave. They are barely out the door before Sid gives in and lets himself start to cry; long, deep sobs that shake his whole body. He finds himself wishing he’d never woken up.


	14. Chapter 14

Sid’s at the physiotherapy department lifting weights. It’s nothing like how he used to lift when he was playing. Now the term would make him laugh if the whole thing wasn’t so fucking tragic. He’s sitting at the end of a bench doing bicep curls with a fifteen pound barbell and his left arm is shaking from the effort. That he can do it at all still fills him with a sense of accomplishment. Sid is slowly regaining the strength in his left side.

His physiotherapist Brent smiles encouragingly. “Right on, Sid. Looks good.”

Sid’s not in total agreement over the statement. He’s finding his progress frustrating but today he’s having a good day and he’s polite. He smiles back.

“Yeah, feels okay,” he agrees a little breathlessly. When he finishes his last set he drops the weight at his feet and picks up his towel to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

Each day, every day, Sid spends four hours here doing a series of exercises designed to rebuild his strength and endurance. He spends another two hours with an occupational therapist relearning how to perform tasks he used to take for granted such as tying his shoes. It’s a lot but Sid insists on doing more than most patients would be capable of because he wants to play hockey as soon as he can. Sid is used to working hard.

He tries not to think about how he used to be; he knows it can only lead to despair. No, Sid follows orders and works his way through his routine of free weights, universal gym, exercise bike and treadmill and tries not to dwell on the past. He figures, like for everything else in his life, if he focuses and meets each task with steely determination, he will succeed. He will get back to where he was. It’s what keeps Sid going.

He gets up and moves on to the universal gym. It’s time for some leg work. He makes some adjustments and sellects a weight and then sits down to do some extensions. He looks up when Brent makes a disapproving noise.

“What?”

“Not supposed to go up today, Sid,” Brent warns him. “Not until the beginning of the week.”

Sid shrugs. “Felt good yesterday,” he says mildly.

Brent only rolls his eyes before reaching down and removing the pin. Sid watches sullenly as the physiotherapist decreases the resistance by ten pounds and slides the pin back in position.

“Okay, twenty reps,” he tells Sid.

Sid doesn’t stay anything, just leans back, gets a grip on the hand holds and starts the exercises. Some days he lets the frustration get the better of him and lashes out at Brent but today isn’t one of those days. He just swallows his frustration and does what he’s told. He grudgingly admits to himself that Brent’s right. By the time he gets to twenty his thighs are burning.

Brent has been his physiotherapist since he started rehab in January. He’s young, maybe a couple years younger than Sid and a good guy. He’s into sports; not so much hockey as basketball and soccer. But he’s athletic and he can understand Sid’s drive to improve, to get better so that he can return to the game he loves.

Brent’s put up with a lot. Sid hasn’t been the easiest patient especially during the early days when he was still reeling from the bad news. It has been a nightmare. Sid has been angry and bitter about what happened to him and where he’s found himself. He’s lashed out at Brent when he’s tried to work with him or conversely he has been quiet, depressed and withdrawn.

Brent has met each version of Sid with patience and a professional cheerfulness which has made Sid feel guilty for being such an asshole. Sid has been told that the anger is a complication of his head injury and it can be difficult to manage or control. He’s working on it. There are lots of times Sid wouldn’t have blamed Brent if he’d giving up on him and told him where to go, but he hasn’t. He’s stayed on the case and Sid is well aware that Brent’s dedication is in a large part responsible for what improvement Sid is seeing.

Sid can’t believe he’s been here for nine weeks already. He wants to get out, to move home but right now it’s not feasible. He’s having recurrent and debilitating headaches from the injury and more alarming he’s been having the occasional seizure. They are decreasing in frequency but Dr. James won’t discharge him to live on his own until they can be controlled. Anyway, Sid can’t drive because of the seizures so someone would have to bring him to the hospital every day for his appointments which would be an enormous pain.

Sid’s parents have offered to stay with him in Pittsburgh but Sid has said no. He doesn’t want to tie his parents down even further. They have their own life in Nova Scotia and have been away from it two months already. Once Sid was stable and had started in on his rehab routine he’d told his parents they should go home. They had reluctantly agreed.

The Penguins have covered Sid’s care since his injury and that has included accommodation in a facility adjacent to the hospital where he moved once he no longer required acute care. It isn’t luxurious by any means, used mostly by patients having long term treatments but he has his meals provided and a room with a bed and a TV. At the moment Sid doesn’t need much more than that.

The best feature is its proximity to the hospital. It’s only a short walk from his room to the physiotherapy department, not that Sid can even walk there for the first month. No, much to Sid’s chagrin, he is so weak he has to have one of his parents or a nurse take him over in a wheelchair. The first time Sid manages to walk to an appointment on his own is what finally convinces his parents that they can return to Nova Scotia.

Brent gives him a couple minutes and then tells him, “Okay, do another set.”

Sid tucks his chin down and does as he’s told; nice and slow. He watches the muscles in his thighs stand out as he puts all he can into the extensions. He has to let out a long breath as he does the last one.

Brent grins at him when he’s done. “Excellent. So, got any exciting plans for the weekend?” he asks.

This makes Sid laugh. It’s getting to be a joke between them. Seeing as Sid is essentially living in a hospital he doesn’t really have much of a social life at the moment. He does have a couple days off though as exciting as they generally are.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Sid smiles.

“Any of the guys coming by?” Brent asks him and Sid shakes his head.

“Nope. On a road trip this weekend,” Sid tells him. “They’re out west somewhere.”

“Vancouver?” Brent asks.

Sid shrugs. “I’m not sure.” He knows the guys probably told him when they were in during the week but he doesn’t remember. “I don’t watch all the time, you know?”

Brent nods but doesn’t say anything and Sid starts in on his last set of extensions. “It’s kind of hard,” he admits through tight lips as he lifts his legs again.

“Yeah, I bet,” Brent agrees.

“I mean, I like watching everyone play. It’s just frustrating when I’m here. It kind of sucks, hearing about the games and practise and everything......” Sid stops.

It’s getting a bit easier but yeah.... It was terrible to begin with. Sid hated to have the guys see him when he could barely walk, as unsteady on his feet as a small child. The first few visits were filled with awkward silences, his team mates as uncomfortable as Sid, not knowing what to say to him. Geno was the one who finally managed to break the ice with his clowning around. It’s gradually gotten easier although each visit still reminds Sid of what he’s lost.

“Okay,” Brent tells him when he’s done. “Half an hour on the bike and you’ll be done for the day. Make it a good one. After all it’s Friday.”

Sid nods and pushes himself up from the bench and heads over to one of the bank of exercise bikes. He glances down at the floor, careful of his footing. They’re at a spot where the flooring changes from lino to tile and the surface is uneven. He still drags his left foot a bit and if he’s not careful he’ll trip again. Brent reaches over instinctively and puts a hand on his elbow for support and Sid fights the urge to pull his arm away. He hates being like this, feeling so helpless.

Sid climbs onto the first free bike in the row. Brent watches Sid for a moment when he starts to peddle, making sure he’s using the agreed upon program and not overdoing it. Sid has a bad tendency to think he can do more than he can and has had a few set-backs. The one and only time he talked Brent into letting him do a slow jog on the treadmill instead of a walk he’d been almost immediately doubled over with a terrible headache.

Brent had been forced to half carry Sid to the bathroom where he’d been thoroughly sick. The headache had taken three days to subside even when being hit with heavy painkillers. The incident had scared both of them. They’d both been read the riot act by Dr. James and the nursing staff and after that there had been no more jogging. Nor would Brent let Sid do anything outside of the prescribed care plan. Sid hasn’t put up much of a fight.

“I thought maybe I’d go by and see the kids again tomorrow afternoon,” Sid tells Brent while he peddles.

“Over at Sick Kids?” Brent asks, referring to the affiliated children’s hospital across the street.

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’m sure they love it.”

Sid nods. “It’s fun.”

The kids do love it. It was Jordie who’d first suggested to Sid that he visit the children’s wards and he’d liked the idea. He’s sent his mom to see if it was possible and the nurses had been thrilled with his offer. Now Sid tries to go once a week for a couple hours.

“So what do you do there?” Brent asks him.

“I don’t know. Just talk to them. Some of them are really cool. We watch some TV or play video games. That sort of stuff.”

The kids are great. They’ve all had a crappy hand dealt to them and yet the smiles on their faces when he’d show up lit up the whole room. Sid had asked the guys to bring down some hats and shit and he’d give them out too. The kids acted like it was Christmas.

The best part is when he gets to sit down and play video games and joke around with them and they can all forget for a bit. There is another benefit to the gaming; the video games are good for his hand eye coordination. Sid’s getting better but he still routinely gets his ass handed to him by some of the kids.

When Sid looks up he sees that Brent is smiling at him.

“What?”

It’s Brent’s turn to shrug. “I was just thinking that this is the happiest I’ve seen you look since we met.”

“I like hanging out there,” Sid tells him simply.

Brent gets called away to help another patient and Sid keeps peddling. Sid lets his mind wander while he rides. He watches the other patients; the pleasant guy who Sid knows has had his knee replaced, the woman around his mom’s age who’s had a stroke, and the young black kid who’d been hit by a car and was having to learn to walk again.

They all had their stories and were dealing with their conditions the best they can. It makes Sid realize that, although his life isn’t exactly what he wants it to be, it could be a hell of a lot worse. Before he knows it Brent is back and slaps him on the shoulder; the half hour is up.

“Okay, buddy. Time’s up.” Brent looks at his watch and tells Sid, “Quitting time for me too. Hang on a second and I’ll walk back with you.”

Sid climbs down off the bike and wipes it down while he catches his breathe. His legs are a little rubbery but they feel a lot better than when he first tried doing anything. Sid stretches out his hamstrings and quads while he waits for Brent to come back with his coat and backpack.

They stop at a junction in the corridors before going in opposite directions; Brent to the car park and Sid back to his room. Sid smiles when Brent pulls a Penguins toque out of his coat pocket and pulls it on. It was a gift from Geno. The guys were horrified when they found out Brent liked the Canucks and Geno had brought the toque in the next day.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you next week,” Sid tells him.

“Yup, I’ll be there,” Brent agrees. 

 

********************************

 

Geno is lounging on Sid’s bed watching him stuff his clothes into a duffle bag and for the moment he’s holding his tongue. Sid keeps glancing across at him as he packs his belongings up and waits for him to start in. It’s been four months and Sid’s finally going home. he can’t wait. He’s fucking elated and he’s not going to let the silent waves of disapproval from his teammate dampen his mood.

When Sid gets all his t-shirts and sweats in the bag he zips it up and tosses it on the floor by the door. He glances at his watch and then sits down. He looks up and sees that Geno is regarding him mournfully.

“What?” he finally sighs.

“Is bad idea, Sid,” Geno tells him. “What happen with being honest?”

Sid rubs his hands over his face and looks at the floor. He can feel a headache coming on already. “I already told you. This is just temporary. Until Christine finds a new apartment. It’ll work out for me too. You know I’m not supposed to stay by myself.” 

He looks up at Geno and admits, “I just really want to go home.”

“I tell you come stay with us, Sid,” Geno says.

“Yeah, I know. And I appreciate the offer, Geno. It’s just, I want to be in my own place.  
Anyway, you’re busy with the team and everything. I don’t want to be in the way.”

Geno looks at him dubiously. “You tell her yet?”

Sid looks back down at his feet. He hasn’t. He knows he needs to but it just hasn’t been the right time. Christine knows the engagement is on hold, he’s told her that much. She accepted that without protest but whenever Sid tries to tell her that he’s decided he’s really only into guys, or as he’s sometimes afraid “guy”, he just can’t find the right way to start.

“No,” Sid tells him. “But I will,” he promises when Geno lets out a snort. “I’m just waiting for a good time.”

“When that be, Sid? Christmas?”

Sid’s opens his mouth to respond but then realizes he doesn’t have anything credible to say and so he just gapes at Geno. It takes him a minute to realize his mouth is still hanging open and he snaps it shut again in irritation. Sid knows he’s got nothing here.

Geno graciously lets it slide but then goes on to try a different tack. Sid never knows what the hell’s coming next from Geno. He almost chokes when Geno tells him, “You should ask Brent out.”

“What?” he hisses.

“He’s good guy. Nice looking too.”

He pronounces this with utter certainty, as if he an authority on good looking men and Sid can only shake his head. Geno is sounding a lot like a meddling aunt.

“You should ask,” he prods when Sid doesn’t answer.

“I doubt he’s gay,” Sid tells Geno dryly.

“Of course he is. Otherwise I not say,” Geno tells him patiently.

“How the hell do you know that?” Sid asks him exasperatedly. This is just getting to be too much. Sid rubs his eyes and tries to take some calming breathes.

Geno gives him a pitying look, as if he’s certainly mentally deficient and tells him, “Well, I ask.”

“Jesus,” Sid snorts. He’s actually kind of curious how that conversation might have gone. Geno is not the most subtle of people, or tactful. All Sid can do is look at Geno and shake his head.  
“What?” Geno demands. “Was trying to help you out.”

“Well, don’t bother,” Sid tells him. “I hope you didn’t freak the guy out.”

Geno shrugs dismissively. “No, no, he was fine. Well, maybe look bit nervous when I first ask him.” No doubt. Just what one would want to be asked by a dower six foot three Russian. Brent probably thought he was going to be gay bashed.

“But he okay once I tell him is no problem. Only wondering because team looking for nice guy for Sidney.”

“Oh, for fuck sake,” Sid mutters. He doesn’t want to hear any more. He’s never going to be able to look at his physiotherapist in the eye again.

“I have to work out with the guy every day. Christ,” he tells Geno in exasperation.

“Sure,” Geno agrees. “You work out, maybe talk, who knows what....” he mercifully leaves any more to Sid’s imagination.

“Thing is though Sid, you just need to try. Is not all hockey, hockey, hockey. Should try to meet people and get out. Meet some guys. See what happen.”

This sobers Sid. It’s the closest any of the guys have come to saying these truths to Sid. The truths he knows somewhere in the back of his mind and only bring out late at night when he can’t sleep. Life without hockey; Sid still can’t conceive of it. If he can’t go back he doesn’t know what the hell he’s going to do.

One thing is for sure. Despite Geno’s ideas, Sid’s probably not going to be dating a swath through the gay population of Pittsburgh. He’s really not interested. Brent is a nice guy and if Sid had to say so, probably good looking, but that’s about it. There is still only one person Sid wants and he’s not around. Sid doesn’t even think he’s in North America yet, not that he’s been asked anyone. Sid’s had enough of his own shit to worry about lately.

Any further discussion about Sid’s love life is cut short by Christine’s arrival. She’s got a nurse with wheelchair in tow and the car parked out front. As usual she looks like a million bucks in, to Sid’s discomfort, a fur coat, designer handbag and boots and leggings. She’s let her hair grow or put in those extensions of whatever the fuck they are and her hair is a tawny mane around her perfectly made up face. Her legs look like they go for miles.

She smiles warmly at Sid and then gives Geno a barely civil nod before turning away before catching the semi-hostile look he gives her. It is obvious to Sid by now that there is no love lost between the two of them. They’ve just never let it become this obvious before.

Geno’s not the only one who’s not thrilled to see Christine back. No one on the team is particularly happy about it. No one thinks she’s good for Sid. They think he’s better off on his own. When Sid tells his mom that Christine is going to stay with him for a while, at least until he stopped having seizures and can drive again she manages to convey her disproval with almost no words. Mom’s are good at that.

When Sid finally gets exasperated and asks her what the big deal is she sighs and says she doesn’t think it’s a good idea. Sid doesn’t know what to say to that one because hell, he’s an adult after all and anyway, it’s only a temporary arrangement until she gets another place and Sid can finally drive his ass around again. He’s sick of being dependant on everyone.

Christine picks up Sid’s bag and hands it to Geno and then ushers Sid into the waiting wheelchair. Sid makes a token protest about wanting to walk out but he’s overruled by the nursing staff; hospital policy. He grudgingly gets settled in the chair with his feet on the rests like some kind of old cripple and gives Geno an exasperated look. Geno only shrugs. He doesn’t appear to be relishing his role as the bag boy either.

Christine muscles the nurse away from the wheelchair so that she can push Sid out to the car like the dutiful soon to be wife she probably still thinks she is. She stops at the mirror to check her hair and they are off. Sid feels like an invalid and hopes like hell there’s no one who recognizes him around.

They manage to get Sid and his belongings into the car without incident and are on their way. As he sees the hospital disappear behind them Sid can’t help but let out a sign of relief. He’s been there far too long.

 

******************************

 

The first couple weeks go alright. Christine drives Sid to the hospital for his appointments and cooks for him at night. She’s on hiatus and uses the downtime to catch up with her friends when she’s not chauffeuring Sid around. She’s not making a lot of friends among the nursing staff and therapists who’re worked with Sid but she’s been a big help to Sid so he can’t say too much.

The wheels begin to wobble a bit when Sid refuses to go out to any clubs. She gets bored sitting around the condo with him watching sports and it pisses her off when Sid won’t oblige. She does talk him into going to a few dinner parties at her friends homes but draws the line there. He still feels self-conscious about going out in public the way he is, limping around like some kind of cripple.

The problem is that Sid’s no better at fitting in with Christine’s friends than he ever was so he always regrets going along. The only thing that helps these social situations is a steady supply of alcohol. It reminds him of a t-shirt he once had that said “I drink to make other people more interesting”. He needs to find another one of those.

Sitting around the condo, the two of them don’t have a lot to talk about. In all honesty, Sid is barely going through the motions and it doesn’t take Christine long to pick up on it. The chauffer/cook role doesn’t sit well with her once she’s figured things out and things really start to go off the rails. She is quick to criticize Sid for any shortcomings and he retaliates by ignoring her most of the time.

He knows he’s being churlish but he can’t seem to stop himself. His headaches are getting worse again, no doubt brought on by the stress. He’s suffering from black moods he seems to have no control over and anger issues Dr. James warned him could be a side effect of his head injury. Sid uses more and more vicodin for his headaches and eventually just to feel better.

Christine prefers to medicate using vodka straight up in the guise of a martini. Sid finds that if he joins her for a couple drinks before dinner, coupled with his vicodin, he can almost cope. He’s still together enough to realize this is not a good basis for a relationship.

The guys drop in when they can but they’re wrapped up in the last few weeks of the season and each game is significant. They’re having extra practises and there’s nothing optional about any of the skates anymore. Christine isn’t knocking herself out making any of them feel welcome either. They take to calling first to see if the war department is in before they’ll stop by.

The first time Jordie sees Sid drinking again he raises his eyebrows in thinly veiled concern. He’d been around in the early hospital days when Sid had been read the riot act by the nursing staff about the pain and seizure medication he was on and how they couldn’t or shouldn’t been combined with alcohol. Dr James has told him emphatically not to drink until the complications of his head injury had abated.

Sid’s stuck to the rules while he was at the hospital but it’s only taken him three weeks at home to fall soundly off the wagon. Sid’s discovered he can phone in orders at Whole Foods for beer and premade foods that are far better than anything he or Christine can make. They will also sell him boxes of Grey Goose at a discount and have it all delivered right to the door. He’s got the whole food thing organized like a boss.

Christine isn’t terribly impressed with their sleeping arrangements. Sid’s assigned her the spare room, telling her that he’s having a terrible time sleeping at night and will only keep her awake. Some nights when the two of them have had a few drinks they slid back into familiar patterns and will mess around on the couch but Sid has absolutely no desire to fuck her. He’ll plead exhaustion, or a headache, or fucking fake a seizure before it comes to that. Sid knows he has to tell her. He’s not really sure why he can’t.

Christine is quite persistent but so far she hasn’t gotten anywhere. Sid’s secretly afraid his injury has messed up more than his career. He doesn’t get hard anymore, not since the coma. Sometimes, when he can fit it in with the rest of his crappy life he worries that he’ll never be able to get it up again. If he ever does Sid doubts very much it’s going to be with Christine.

The shit really hits the fan one night when they’ve been out with Chris’s friends at a yuppy restaurant; one of those ones that charged too much for too little food. Sid gets home piss drunk but irritable because he’s still really hungry. Okay, it’s partly because her friends can still make him feel like a complete loser. But that’s nothing new.

He rifles through the fridge for leftovers and when he emerges with cold pizza he takes it eat in front of the TV while he watches Sports Final. Christine sits down beside him and out of the corner of his eye Sid can see long expanses of skin; she’s wearing one of her silky robes and not much else.

She nudges Sid’s leg suggestively with hers and Sid looks across at her. Christine puts her hand down on his thigh and runs her long fingers up and down the inside of his leg so that Sid puts down what’s left of his pizza on the couch beside him because she’s leaving no doubt as to her intent.

“Look Chris,” Sid starts, intending to tell her he doesn’t want to start anything.

“Come on Sid,” she cajoles. “Let me make you feel good.”

To emphasize her point she runs her hand up over his dick and squeezes gently. Half of Sid is afraid nothing’s going to happen but the other half fucking wants to see if anything can. He’s got enough of a buzz on to not really care who it’s with so he leans back and shuts his eyes before nodding his consent.

Christine is down on her knees and working away at Sid’s zipper immediately. Sid spreads his legs obligingly and then lifts up his hips so that she can slide his jeans off. When his pants and shoes are gone and Christine has free access to his dick Sid is relieved to see that it’s showing some interest in the situation. Sid glances down looks from his cock to Christine’s glistening lips and then back and then leans back and shuts his eyes again. He’s ready or at least he wants to give it a try.

Christine leans in and gets to work jacking him. She’s good at this, there’s no doubt. But the long hair dragging along his thighs is wrong and so is the sweet floral smell she wears and the finger nails, especially along his cock. The mechanics are okay but Sid’s not getting what he needs from the situation so he thinks about someone else blowing him.

Things are immediately better. He pictures large hands gently grazing over his thighs, positioning him firmly, dark brows and blue eyes studying him for every reaction to the touch. Sid groans when he feels the first touch of lips but it’s not Christine’s lips he’s picturing. She works the head with her mouth and fists the rest and it’s really porny and good and Sid starts to thrust his hips up into her mouth.

Christine puts a hand on him, holding him down but she sucks harder and it’s still pretty great. He’s just so fucking relieved that things are still working he could almost cry. Without realizing what he’s doing Sid gasps out a name he’s not said in a long while. Finally he dissolves into the first orgasm he’s had since the accident.

Christine sits back when he’s done and studies him a moment. She’s clearly not amused with his faux pas and though he’s still recovering Sid silently kicks himself for the slip. Christine tidies up silently and then goes to the kitchen to fix herself another drink. Sid’s relieved to see when she gets back that she’s made him one too and he takes a mouthful when she hands it to him.

She sits down again beside him and Sid gulps down another mouthful. She looks like she means business but it’s business of a different kind now. Sid’s terribly afraid it’s time for the talk. Christine doesn’t waste any time.

“Who’s Alex?” She asks tightly.

When Sid doesn’t offer an explanation she continues with her questions. Christine is many things but stupid isn’t one of them. She sits down beside him and Sid uncomfortably covers himself up while she watches him closely over her glass. Sidney, are you gay?”

The words hang there in the silence and Sid thinks he can actually hear his heart beating while he struggles for words. He lets out a long breath.

“Um, yeah, I think I probably am,” Sid admits. “Or at least bi.”

Christine nods thoughtfully. It’s obviously not a total shock to her. “And obviously there’s someone you’re thinking about.....” she muses and makes a vague gesture at his lap.

Sid nods. There’s not a lot he wants to tell her about Alex. There doesn’t seem like any point. Luckily she doesn’t follow up on that line of questioning.

“So how the hell did you end up with me?” she asks him. It’s a very good question. The answers are not something Sid is proud of but he feels he owes Christine the truth. Even if the result will be that she tells him to go fuck himself.

He looks at Christine sadly. “I’m really sorry, Chris. I’ve been so messed up. I never really knew what I wanted. It took me a while to figure it out. And you were always around and didn’t mind me and it was easy with you. I feel bad. You deserve better.”

Sid hazards a glance at Christine to see what her reaction is and sees that she’s nodding in agreement but at least she doesn’t look furious. It’s better than he’d hoped.  
Sid sighs. “I just wanted to be normal,” he concludes pitifully. When Sid finally stops talking he looks at Christine again.

He’s surprised to see she’s laughing softly. She reaches across and takes his hand. “Sid, as much as I like you, you are probably the least normal person I have ever met.”

Sid nods his head sadly. He really is that fucked up. It’s a lucky thing he has any friends at all.

Christine crosses her legs and looks at him. “So, why am I here, Sid? Really?” she waits for an answer.

“Ahhh,” Sid starts. “Well, you needed somewhere to stay until you can find another condo and I’m not supposed to stay on my own, so........” Sid shrugs. Christine doesn’t really look like she’s buying it and starts to tap one perfectly manicured foot impatiently.

“I was thinking a little more long term, Sidney,” she explains and he can suddenly feel his face go red. “You can’t be serious about getting married, surely?”

“Yeah, no. I’ve been meaning to tell you but with everything that’s happened....” he winds down. “I was looking for a good time.”

Christine snorts. “Well, I guess it’s now.”

“Look, I’m really sorry Christine. It was a bad idea. I wasn’t thinking very clearly.”

“Why did you ask me at all?”

Sid sighs. It feels so long ago now. “Um, I kind of panicked. There were pictures of me with the guys and then Alex came out and everyone was asking who I was dating....”

“And you just figured, good old Christine will be into it, I’ll ask her,” Christine mutters.

‘I’m so sorry.” Sid tells her sincerely. “I’m an asshole.”

Christine just shakes her head and then lifts her eyes skyward. “I still having a hard time getting my head around this. You’re really not into girls?”

Sid shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s okay, I guess. But no, it’s not the same as.....” he’s having a hard time explaining how it works.

“You’re pretty decent at it, I have to say,” Christine smiles.

“Um, thanks?” Sid tells her and Christine just shrugs. Credit where credit is due.

“I would never have known. Well, except for the moaning a guy’s name part. That’s a red flag, Sidney. I have to say.”

Sid blushes again. “Yeah, I didn’t mean to do that, obviously. But Christine,” he starts. He knows he’s got to get this all out now before he loses his nerve so Christine knows there’s never going to be anything between them.

“I really appreciate you being here and driving me around and the cooking and everything but that’s all it’s ever going to be. Okay?”

Christine sits for a minute and doesn’t say anything. When she finally does she takes Sid’s hand again and squeezes it. “Okay, Sid. I’ll start looking for a place right away but sure, I’d still like to help you out. Like I said, you are one strange guy but, and I’m not really even sure why, but I like you and I’d like to be friends.”

“I’d like that too, Chris,” Sid tells her. His voice is tight. “You can stay as long as you need.”

Christine waves that off. “You don’t want me hanging around here.”

Sid shrugs again. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like there’s anyone.......” he starts before he realizes it’s a subject he doesn’t really want to get in to.

Christine looks at him and frowns. “Sidney, honey. Excuse me, but I think there is. I mean if you’re calling out his name when I’m blowing you then there’s something still there.”

“It’s over now,” Sid tells her reluctantly. “We broke up. It was for the best.”

Christine doesn’t even know who he’s talking about but Sid can see she’s not buying it. “So where exactly is “Mr. It’s for the Best”?” she prods.

“I don’t even know. I haven’t seen him in a long time. Maybe in Russia?”

“Is he a hockey player?” she asks and then stops herself and answers herself. “Of course he is. Who does he play for?” she asks. He can see the wheels turning already.

“You can’t tell people this, Christine,” Sid hisses at her reflexively. And then he thinks what the fuck, this is what got them, he and Alex, in to the state they’re at. Sid realizes he’s going to have to stop caring about this shit.

He’s about to confess his gay love for Alex Ovechkin to Christine when she puts two and two together on her own. “Was it that big Russian guy in Las Vegas? The one who looked like he wanted to rip my arms off?”

Sid nods. “Yeah, that was him,” he confirms softly. “Alex.”

Christine looks sceptical. “The one with the wild hair?” Sid nods again.

He was missing a tooth,” Christine points out.

“Yeah,” Sid agrees and he can’t help but smile at the memory. Christine takes one look at the sappy look on his face and shakes her head.

“Sid, you’re not over this guy yet. You’ve got a lot on your plate right now but at some point you’re going to need to work this out one way or the other.”

Sid only shrugs noncommitally.

 

******************************

 

Christine graciously agrees to keep driving Sid around while she’s at his place. Like she says, it’s the least she can do. And Sid appreciates it. Now that the pressure is off to act like a boyfriend he finds that the two of the manage to forge a comfortable friendship.

Sid admires Christine in many ways. Her uncompromising disregard for what others think of her is something he knows he should take to heart. Christine has always been one to live by her own standards. She’s very similar to Alex in that way.

A couple weeks later she’s probably regretting her decision to stay on and Sid will be the first one to admit that he can be a total asshole. His irritability can be a challenge at the best of times but things come to a head after the latest visit with Dr. James.

It’s not good news. Sid’s been pushing to be allowed back on the ice, to at least go down to the rink and skate with the guys. He’s walking pretty well now and his neuro deficits are much less pronounced. Sid figures it’s time to try skating again.

Dr. James flatly refuses to consider it despite his can do attitude. She does a few neuro assessments and tells Sid he’s coming along steadily, orders some more tests, and then informs him that skating is out for the time being. She tells him to schedule another appointment for September and to relax and enjoy his summer.

Sid is curt but civil to Dr. James during the appointment but once he’s in the car his mood deteriorates. Christine gives him concerned glances at each light but she’s been around him long enough to know when it’s a good time to keep your mouth shut. She wisely gives him some space to digest the news but it’s a slow, tense drive home through afternoon traffic.

Sid’s not even angry at his doctor in particular but at everything, at the whole fucking world and how it’s preventing Sidney Crosby from doing what he loves the most. His mood didn’t improve when they get to his place and he throws his workout bag across the room when he get in and kicks his runners against the door. Christine just raises her eyes.

His head is pounding so he goes to his room to get some painkillers. He shakes a couple out into his palm and goes to the kitchen to make a drink. Christine frowns when she sees him washing his vicodin down with straight vodka.

“You sure you should be doing that?” she asks him.

Sid snorts. He’s been mixing the two since they met so he’s not sure why it’s suddenly an issue although there’s no denying the worried look on her face.

“What?” he demands.

Christine sighs. “Look, Sid. I’m no angel, I’ll admit. But I just think you should maybe slow down on the drinking. It’s one thing to party, but this is getting to be something else.”

“I can handle it,” he tells her. 

He takes another couple mouthfuls of vodka and refills the glass before going to the living room and turning on the TV. He flips through the stations to find a hockey game to watch. It’s the first round of the playoffs and the Bruins are playing.

Christine follows and sits down on the couch beside him. She doesn’t look like she’s going to let things go and Sid’s irritation increases. The last thing he needs right now is Christine telling him how to run his life. He congratulates himself silently for having the presence of mind to have brought the bottle of vodka along with him from the kitchen.

“Do you think maybe you should talk to someone, Sid?”

“Like who?” Sid snaps, still watching the game.

“I don’t know. Maybe Mario or someone from the team could suggest someone?”

Sid finally turns to her. “Just keep the team out of this, okay, Christine. I’m fine.” He grabs the bottle off the coffee table and refills his glass before sitting back and stubbornly crossing his arms across his chest.

“Look, Sid. I’m just trying to help,” she tells him.

“Yeah, well I don’t need your help.”

Christine just watches him while he takes another drink. The booze and pills are starting to kick in so that his headache is dulling but they’re not really touching the anger that’s still threatening to burst out.

“Look, Sid. I just think you’ve had to deal with a lot and it just might help to talk to someone about everything,”

“Like a shrink?” Sid mutters.

Christine only shrugs. “It might not be a bad idea. I mean, it must be tough. You’ve played hockey all your life and now......”

“And now what?” Sid snaps out. Christine is really starting to irritate him and he finds himself squeezing the glass in his hand.

“Well, now that you can’t play anymore, you have a lot of adjustments to make.”

“I’m going to play again,” Sid tells her stubbornly.

Christine looks at him in complete sympathy. “Oh honey, I know you want to but I think you need to be realistic here. You’re not going to be going back.”

Something snaps inside Sid when she says that. Before he knows what he’s doing Sid stands up and leans over Christine and starts raising his voice.

“Don’t say that. You don’t know anything about hockey. I’ll be going back. I’m getting stronger all the time. Everyone says so,” he yells.

“Calm down, Sid” Christine soothes.

“Well, stop saying that shit. You don’t know,” Sid yells. He cringes inwardly and how shrill his voice has gotten as he’s filled with completely irrational anger over what she’s suggested. He notices Christine glancing at his clenched fists and tries to relax them. He belatedly realizes he probably looks like he’s going to hit her.

Christine shakes her head. She’s not one to let people go on living in a fantasy and she’s got guts, Sid has to give her that. She’s not backing down.

“No, I don’t. But I don’t think it would hurt to see someone. Maybe think about not taking so many pain pills. I’d just hate to see you get....”

“I’m not a druggie, Christine.”

“I’m not saying you are. I just think it’s something you need to be careful with. Lots of people get in over their head. I’ve seen it happen, baby.”

“I told you I could handle it.”

Christine sighs. “Alright. Just consider it,” she suggests.

“And start to think about what you might want to do after hockey.” Christine’s voice drops on the last part as if she’s afraid of how Sid will react. She’s not wrong.

“What are you talking about?” Sid demands, his fists clenching involuntarily. Christine sighs.

“Sid, you’re going to have to face facts. The guys just can’t bring themselves to tell you because they’re afraid of how you’ll react but it’s still the truth. You won’t be playing again. You’re going to have to figure out what else you want to do with your life. There are a million things. You just need to decide.”

Christine tries to take his hand, to pull him back down so he’s sitting again but Sid pulls his hand away from her. He doesn’t want to be comforted right now.

“Get out,” he tells her.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sid,” Christine tells him.

“You heard me. Get the fuck out of my place.” Sid can feel himself loosing it. He’s almost shrieking as he tells her again to leave. As angry as he is he’s afraid of what he might do and he blinks back tears.

“I don’t want to leave you alone like this,” she insists stubbornly. “I’m going to call someone on the team.”

Christine glances at Sid’s phone. He’s left it on the coffee table. When she makes to pick it up so she can get someone’s number Sid beats her to it as drunk as he is. He snatches it up and tells her, “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Sid, you’re not yourself right now,” Christine tells him. But he can tell she’s faltering. For the first time she looks afraid of him.

“Get out,” Sid repeats. Christine just stares back at him with a stubborn set to her mouth. Damn that woman.

When it looks as if she’s not going to go Sid emphasizes his demand by throwing his glass against the wall. Christine jumps as pieces of glass and ice cubes fly everywhere and they both stare at the last of the vodka as it runs down the paint.

Christine says no more. Sid watches as she gets up and silently walks to her room and shuts the door. It’s probably for the best. If she were to argue with him anymore he doesn’t know what he’d do. His loss of control frightens him and he can feel himself shaking. He sits down and puts his head in his hands and fights to hang on.

Sid grabs the bottle of vodka and leans back into the couch. He finishes it, straight from the bottle, while he watches the rest of the game. He passes out before it’s over and when he wakes up in the morning he has no idea who won.

The condo is silent. Christine must have turned off the TV. When Sid pushes himself upright he sees that she’s also swept up the broken glass and wiped the alcohol off the wall. He goes to the kitchen to get a drink of water and sees that there’s coffee made. There is also a note from Christine saying that she’s left. She’s staying with a friend until her place is ready.  
Sid’s just as happy to be on his own although he’s not sure how everyone else will react to that. He considers maybe not telling anyone for a while. He takes a couple more vicodin and collapses back on the couch and watches TV all morning.

He decides to skip physio. What’s the point? In the back of his mind he knows he’s not going to be playing hockey again. Christine is right. So there’s no reason to work out all the time. Fuck it. He deserves a break from it. Christine calls but when he sees who it is Sid won’t pick up. He doesn’t feel like getting nagged any more than he’s already been.

A couple days later Sid runs out of vodka so he calls the supermarket and orders a crate. They deliver it a couple hours later and he gives the guy a big tip. Without Christine there Sid doesn’t have to make it look like he’s just drinking socially so he hits it pretty hard. When he wakes up in the mornings with a pounding headache well, the vicodin helps with that.

He tries to watch hockey but to be honest it just hurts to damn much. The Penguins are in a tough series with the Oilers and Sid wishes he could help. It’s terribly frustrating to sit by and watch as his friends go down to defeat in first one and then a second game. Midway through the third game he changes the channel; he can’t watch any more. Sid doesn’t watch game four when they are eliminated.

A few days later it dawns on Sid that all the booze and pain pills in the world aren’t helping the dark mood that’s threatening to overwhelm him and he starts to cry. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this hopeless in his life.

It’s not even panic this time it’s more of a dark, bleak despair. No matter how fucked up he’s been Sid’s always managed to find the positive when he’s tried hard enough but even that glimmer seems to have escaped him now. He just doesn’t seem to have the energy to even look anymore.

He phones home one night just to say hi because it’s just hit him suddenly how much he misses his mom and dad. They aren’t home. When the familiar message on the answering machine comes on Sid dissolves into tears. He chokes out a brief message about how much he loves them and that he will call them again soon and then hangs up. He begins to cry in earnest.

It takes him a few minutes to pull himself together and when he does he gets a new bottle of vodka and settles down on the couch. His head is throbbing so he shakes out a handful of pills and washes them down with a swig from the bottle. It’s not long before he’s enveloped by a familiar darkness.


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing Sid is aware of is a dull pounding as if someone is knocking on a door far away. As his muddled thought processes clear slightly he realizes it is someone knocking on a door, his door; loudly and insistently. Sid briefly considers trying to get up but the effort required to even open his eyes is too much. Lifting his head, never mind standing, would be out of the question. He drifts off again.

The next time Sid wakes up it’s because someone has grabbed hold of his shoulders and is shaking the ever-loving shit out of him. His head flops back and forth and he struggles up from unconsciousness mostly so that he can slap whoever is doing this to him because it’s making his head pound. He lets out a groan and blindly tries to bat away whoever is doing this to him. All he wants is to go back to sleep.

He can hear muffled voices, or maybe they aren’t that muffled after all, because there seems to be a certain amount of urgency in what’s being said. It’s just not making much of an impression on Sid. He’s just so damn tired. He wishes they’d keep it down a bit and would just stop with the shaking.

The voice above him gets louder and more difficult to ignore. He can hear his name being repeated over and over again. Finally Sid is shocked into consciousness by a stinging slap to the face. It takes all the effort he can muster to open his heavy eyelids enough to focus on his attacker. It’s Geno staring down at him tensely.

“Fuck, Sidney,” he says.

Sid wants to ask Geno why he’s there in his apartment instead of on the road playing hockey and maybe winning a Stanley Cup or something but his mouth doesn’t seem to be working right now. Instead he tries to shut his eyes again.

Geno isn’t having any of it. Sid hears a string of muttered words in Russian and then he’s shaken awake again, hard enough to make his teeth rattle together.

“Don’t you fucking dare sleep, Sidney,” Geno mutters angrily.

Sid looks up at him blearily and his eyelids flicker again. When Geno lifts his hand to slap him again though, Sid shakes himself awake and tries to pull away.

He licks his dry lips and manages to get out, “Stop.”

“Stay awake,” Geno warns him.

Sid nods at him and struggles to rouse himself enough to take in his surroundings. Geno is there but so are Selander and Krylov. The two of them are hovering behind Geno, each one peering over a shoulder with tense and worried expressions. Sid glances back at Geno and notices his normally heavily lidded eyes are wide open. Despite his steady tone he looks slightly panicked. There’s no doubt Sid’s scared the hell out of them.

Once he’s ascertained that Sid is still alive Geno relaxes enough to give him a closer once over. His lip curls in distaste when he notices that Sid’s t-shirt is streaked with stains; he’s obviously vomited all over himself at some point. When Geno lets go of his shirt and lets him fall back can’t blame him. The sour smell is threatening to make him throw up again himself and Sid has to swallow hard to keep the bile down. Geno immediately notices and distances himself a little, at least getting out of the line of fire.

He looks back at Krylov and Selander and tells them, “Shower.”

Sid is slung over the two younger men’s shoulders and dragged to his bathroom where he’s propped on the toilet seat just long enough to get his soiled clothing off and then deposited in the tub. No one wants to get too close or for too long. Geno turns on the shower without adjusting the temperature so the first blast that hits him is ice cold. Sid lets out a gasp but it does shock him awake.

Geno sits down on the edge of the tub and stares at Sid balefully. He doesn’t look as shit scared anymore. Now he just looks pissed off and really tired. His hair is sticking out in all directions as if he’d been sleeping and Sid wonders what time it is. He’s slowly becoming more aware and vaguely wonders what brought the guys over to his place.

He wipes the water out of his eyes and asks, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be playing somewhere?”

Geno snorts and then shakes his head. “You not follow your team, Sid. All over. We lost. Out.”

“Sorry,” Sid says. He looks out the bathroom window. It looks dark out. He squints up at Geno. “What time is it?”

Geno looks even angrier if that’s possible and leans down over Sid before telling him, “Is middle of night, Sidney. Mom phone me. Afraid you do something stupid. Ask me to come right over and check on you.”

He shakes his head in disgust. “You phone mom and leave crazy message? Was stupid, Sid. Scare her to death. Was afraid you dead.”

Sid just sits there and lets the water pelt down on him. He can barely recall phoning his mom and he has no idea how long ago it was. It’s all a blur. He thinks about his parents and how he’s frightened them and shuts his eyes in shame.

Krylov enters the room and Geno starts telling him something in Russian. Krylov turns to the medicine cabinet and starts removing the medications Sid has in there. He takes them all away and Sid follows him desolately with his eyes. He could use something about now. His head is starting to pound.

“Where’s he going with that?” Sid asks Geno. He gets no answer.

Instead Geno tosses him a face cloth and tells him, “Wash off. Then we talk.”

Sid grabs the soap and cleans up as best he can. When he’s done Geno turns off the water, helps him up, and gives him a towel. Selander appears with a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and he and Geno steady Sid while he pulls them on. He’s still feeling dizzy and having a hard time coordinating his movements. When he’s done Geno and Selander hoist his arms over their shoulders again and march him back into the living room and deposit him on the couch.

Sid sees that the boys have been busy. All his painkillers have been gathered and are sitting on the coffee table in front of him. They’ve also collected all the full and empty vodka bottles from around the condo. Together with all the pill bottles it looks pretty bad. Sid looks up at Geno and gets a blank stare. He’s not looking forward to what the Russian has to say. Sid tries feebly to explain.

“It’s for my headaches. The doctors prescribed them,” Sid tells the guys. He has to admit it sounds pretty lame in the face of what’s in front of him. Especially all the vodka bottles; did he really drink that much vodka?

Sid doesn’t have to wait long. Geno lets out a long breath and looks right at Sid. “Give me one reason I don’t phone Mario. Get you put in rehab?” he demands.

Sid swallows. He thinks about it, the scandal, having to tell his family, and he quickly shakes his head. “No, don’t,” he tells Geno. “I’ll stop.”

Geno doesn’t look like he believes him. Sid’s not sure he believes himself except that it’s just now starting to dawn on him how stupid he’s been.

“No, I will,” he insists. “I have to.....” he drops off. Sid’s not sure who exactly he’s trying to convince.

Geno makes a disgusted noise and heads to the kitchen. He comes back with the garbage can and to Sid’s horror he takes all the pills and scoops them into the pail. “Time to start,” he tells Sid.

“Not all of them,” Sid gasps. He looks at Geno pleadingly when the few remaining bottles of vodka are taken and left by the front door.

Krylov says something in Russian and Geno snorts. Sid doesn’t think anything is too funny. He’s starting to feel panic stricken. To give the other man credit, Geno doesn’t really look like he’s finding the situation funny either. Sid can’t remember ever seeing him look more serious. Sid knows he means business.

“Right now?” he asks shakily.

Selander steps up behind Geno and tells Sid, “We’ll help. You don’t have to do this by yourself, Sid.”

Krylov is there too and he nods in agreement. Geno nods back and turns to Sid and smiles for the first time. It doesn’t last long. He says something to Krylov in Russian and Sid watches forlornly while he and Selander take away all the drugs and alcohol. He gives Geno a bleak look but gets no sympathy.

“No more, Sid.”

Sid nods glumly and then yawns. He’s still feeling groggy and hung over. He’s still got a lot of drugs and alcohol in his system and his mouth is dry. As if reading his mind Selander returns with a bottle of water and hands it to Sid. He opens it and takes a couple cautious sips, not sure how it’s going to sit. He drinks a couple more mouthfuls before putting the top back on.

“I think I’m going to go lie down for a while,” he tells the others. “I don’t feel too good.”

“Okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I go home. Tell Natasha you still alive.”

Sid winces at his tone and the fact he’s obviously worried her as well. “Sorry, man,” he tells Geno. As an afterthought he adds, “Can you call my mom?”

Geno frowns at him and then tells Sid, “Already did.”

He says no more but on his way by he puts his hand on Sid’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze before telling him, “Guys stay with you. I come back and check later.”

 

**************************************

 

When Sid wakes up again he’s got no idea what time it is. The condo is quiet and dark. He needs to take a piss so he pulls himself shakily out of bed and makes his way to his bathroom. When he’s done he splashes cold water on his face and takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror. He looks pale and tense and the light makes his head hurt so he turns it off and crawls back into bed. He can’t get warm so he pulls up his knees and curls into a ball while he waits to fall back to sleep.

The next time Sid opens his eyes Geno is standing over him with his arms crossed. He’s still got his coat on as though he’s just come in from outdoors. Sid rubs a hand over his face and then pushes himself up so that he’s sitting at the edge of the bed. His head swims. Without thinking he starts rocking back and forth, his arms tightly clasped across his chest.

“How you feel, Sid,” Geno asks.

Sid squints while he takes inventory of his body. It doesn’t take long to figure out the answer. “Like shit,” he tells the other man.

He feels like he needs to move. It’s like he can’t sit still, like his legs are screaming at him to get up and move, and he would except his body hurts so badly. His head, his back, every muscle and joint in his body aches. This is worse than any hangover he’s ever had, worse than the ache of a really tough workout, worse than any injury he’s experienced. His stomach cramps up on him and he pulls his knees up to his chest in an attempt to alleviate it.

A wave of nausea hits him and he fights to control it, concentrating on breathing his way through it – deep breath in, breathe slowly out. It’s not working.

“I feel sick,” Sid gasps out and then staggers to his feet. Geno puts a steadying hand on his shoulder and helps him to the bathroom where Sid drops to his knees in front of the toilet. Only a little bitter tasting fluid comes up but Sid can’t seem to stop his body from heaving over and over again.

When he finally stops retching Geno wets a cloth and hands it to Sid so he can wipe off his face. He collapses onto his hip, leaning against the wall, propped up between the toilet and the cabinetry, his head lolling to the side. He shuts his eyes as he’s hit by another wave of nausea.

“Fuck,” he manages to get out.

Geno makes a sympathetic noise and then wets a towel and lays it across his forehead. He leans forward and flushes the toilet and the noise next to his head makes Sid wince in pain. He gulps down air and struggles not to hurl again. When he opens his eyes he sees that Geno has wisely pulled back out of range.

“Sorry,” he gets out between breaths.

“Is okay, Sid,” Geno tells him. “I seen you get sick before.”

Sid shakes his head. It’s true. Geno’s been around for more than one of his ill fated drinking episodes but nothing like this. Sid’s never been through anything like this before. He’s not sure why Geno is taking this on but Sid definitely going to owe him one.

Sid’s getting cold. He’s starting to shake so he struggles back to his feet. Now that the dry heaves have stopped he needs to get back to bed. The room spins and he has to sit back down on the toilet. Geno is there at his side immediately, steadying him and when Sid finally nods that he’s ready to try to get up again he wraps an arm around Sid’s waist and helps him to his feet. They make their unsteady way back to the bed and Sid crawls in and pulls his legs up in the fetal position.

Geno pulls the covers up over him, brings him some towels, and as an afterthought positions a garbage can at the side of the bed. Sid follows his movements with one eye until he has to clench them shut as another bout of shakes overcome him. When it finally passes Sid lets out a long breath, his legs still moving restlessly under the covers.

“Thanks for doing this,” he manages to get out.

Geno shakes his head and tells him, “I don’t do anything yet.”

“Yeah. You have,” Sid assures him through clenched teeth.

 

********************************

 

And that’s how Sid ends up going cold turkey. He spends the next two weeks confined to his condo under the watchful but compassionate eye of Geno, Selander and Krylov. Sid’s seen movies where characters go through withdrawal but he’d thought it only happened with shit like heroin. He’d had no idea what it could be like to come off prescription pain killers. After the first day when it gets really bad he’s afraid he’s going to die. Later, when the nausea and aching pain get even worse, he’s afraid he won’t.

Sid hurts from retching over and over again and his body is racked with shaking chills. The sheets are drenched in cold sweat and he tosses fitfully, unable to sleep for more than fifteen minutes at a time. The first night Selander does some research on the internet and finds out the withdrawal could last fifteen days. Sid’s not sure he can last that long. He’s not the only one.

On the third day Geno is back and tries to convince Sid to get medical help. Geno has gone from being frightened of Sid’s condition, to being angry, to being determined, right back to being scared again. Sid is lying on the floor of the bathroom where he’s shut himself, refusing to leave. It’s the only practical solution. Sid can’t be far from the toilet. He’s embarrassed himself by soiling the bed more than once.

Geno changes the sheets and then opens the bathroom door, finding Sid curled on the floor, his legs twitching, his knees hugged to his chest. Geno practically carries him back to bed, making sure his underwear are as clean as the fresh sheets and tries to talk to Sid about checking into rehab until the medication is out of his system. Sid refuses.

“Didn’t know it would be this bad, Sid,” Geno tells him. “You sure you don’t want doctor? Can give you something to help, maybe?”

“No.” Sid’s voice is flat and tired, but adamant. “No more doctors. No hospital.”

“Sid, please.....”

“No, I mean it,” Sid grinds out through clenched teeth.

Geno looks like he’s going to argue but Sid cuts him off. “Just drop it. Please. I got myself into this mess. Let me fix it. I can do this. Please,” he repeats.

Geno doesn’t mention medical help again but that doesn’t stop him from worrying over Sid as he continues to fight the withdrawal symptoms. The others worry too. The three of them take turns watching Sid. Each time he opens his eyes one of them is in the room with him, usually in the recliner beside the bed. They stay close at hand in case he needs help to the bathroom.

They keep the lights off because Sid finds the brightness makes the pain in his head ten times worse. They speak in hushed voices, keeping the condo soothingly quiet. Sharp noises make Sid jump and his shaking worse so that he has to hang onto himself to keep from flying apart. Unaccountably his nose won’t stop running. It’s not until later that he’s told it’s yet another symptom of the withdrawal.

The next time Sid’s aware the temperature in the room seems to have changed. From shaking with cold he’s now become uncomfortably hot. He rolls over in bed and kicks the covers off. His tee-shirt is clinging in damp patches to his skin, and his forehead is covered with sweat. Selander gets up from the chair, wets a washcloth with cool water in the bathroom and crouches down next to Sid. He wipes Sid’s sweaty face with gentle strokes.

“It’s fucking hot in here,” Sid tells him.

“Want me to open a window?” Selander asks him.

“In my brain, maybe. Can you do that?” Sid asks him more sharply than he intends. Then he opens his eyes and tells him, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that.”

Selander continues to press the cold cloth to Sid’s forehead. “Don’t worry about it.”

Sid does worry about it though. It’s not like him to be intentionally rude. It’s just that he feels so fucking bad it’s making him irritable. He’s silent for a minute. Selander picks up a glass from the bedside and hands it wordlessly to Sid. Sid takes the straw and has a cautious sip of the Gatorade. It’s cool on his parched lips and he takes another although he’s careful not to drink too much. He knows from experience that his stomach will rebel. After a couple more mouthfuls he shakes his head and pushes the glass away. He watches through dull eyes as Selander puts the glass down again.

"How long has it been?" he finally asks.

"Six days."

"Shit.”

He’s been hoping, no praying, that the withdrawal pain will abate. He can’t believe he’s endured six days. Even worse, he may have to endure much more. But no matter how bad he feels Sid won’t give in. He refuses to ask for his medications. He can’t humiliate himself by begging for them, not when the guys have done so much for him already. Sid knows that if he gives in he’ll be letting them down. He shuts his eyes again and tries to relax, to will himself back to sleep so that time can pass more quickly.

It’s easy to lose track of time. The days are a gray dimness of drawn shades and aching red pain. Nights are darker, marked by more quiet, the same red pain and a gnawing emptiness that keeps him awake when all he seeks is the oblivion of sleep. One night he’s overcome by despair and can’t help but sob into the pillow, hoping he doesn’t wake Krylov who’s sleeping in the chair beside him.

He’s got no idea how many days and dark nights he’s been in his room. Too weak and tired to do anything but lie here, in too much pain to do little else than concentrate on the hope that it would be over soon. Sid knows he will come out whole at the end of this. It’s just hard to believe when he feels so terrible.

There’s no clock in the room so he’s not sure, but Sid thinks that when he sleeps now, he’s sleeping for longer periods of time. His life has been ruled by schedules for so long, it feels disconcerting not to know what time it is. Sid takes it as a positive sign that this is bothering him. He’s not sure, but he thinks the aching pain is ebbing slightly and he’s not thrown up the sips of Gatorade he’s been given in at least a day. He feels inordinately proud of this small accomplishment.

Sid shifts his head on the pillow, resisting the urge to twitch his foot. He’s fairly certain it’s night, and sometime late at night. Selander must have opened the window because Sid can feel a cooling breeze across his skin. The dim light coming from the bathroom is enough to see that there’s no one in the room with him. Whoever’s shift it is, they must be elsewhere at the moment although Sid can hear no sound from the rest of the condo. The world is night time quiet and Sid drops off to sleep again.

The next morning when Sid wakes he sees Geno is asleep in the recliner. Sid pushes himself upright, his legs over the side of the bed and waits for his head to stop spinning before he gets shakily to his feet. He needs to piss in the worst way. Geno snores softly as Sid passes but shows no signs of waking.

When Sid gets back from the bathroom Geno is awake. He stretches and rubs his face with a hand and pushes himself out of the lounger while Sid watches. Geno scowls at him.

“Should have waited for help, Sid,” he tells him.

“I can piss on my own,” Sid challenges.

All he gets is a derisive snort in reply. Sid knows very well that this is the first time he’s managed on his own in a while. Normally he’s been held upright by one or two others while he attempts to hit the toilet. Several times that has even been too much for him and Sid can recall one bad night when he’d managed to piss on both Geno and Krylov.

Sid looks down and pulls at the waistband of his boxers. They are swimming on him. He’s lost a lot of weight but for the first time since they started he feels like he could eat something. As if to confirm the thought, his stomach rubbles loudly. Geno hears it.

“Hungry?” he asks Sid.

“Maybe,” he says. “Yeah, I think I might be.”

He sees some of his sweat pants on the dresser and picks them up. Geno is at his side in a second and steadies him while he pulls them on. He pulls open a drawer and grabs one of his t-shirts. The living room is empty when they get there although the controllers for Sid’s video game system are still on the coffee table. The door to the spare bedroom is closed so Sid assumes one of the other guys is sleeping in.

He climbs up on one of the chairs at the island and watches as Geno gets out a pot and measures out water and puts it on the stove to boil while he gets out the oatmeal. In a few minutes he sets down a small bowl of plain oatmeal in front of Sid and then pours him a glass of milk. He watches quietly while Sid takes a cautious mouthful. It’s probably been at least a week since he’s had solid food.

The oatmeal is bland, almost tasteless, but it’s warm and it fills the empty spot inside Sid so he keeps eating, taking small mouthfuls and washing it down with cold milk. Best of all his stomach is showing no signs of throwing it all back up. Sid can’t remember a time where eating something felt so good. When he’s finished he pushes the bowl away and looks up at Geno.

“Thanks.”

“Was good?” Geno asks him.

When Sid nods Geno smiles at him. “That’s enough for now, okay? Krylov read on internet that start with small meals. Simple things. Until body is ready for more.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Sid agrees. He feels like he could eat more but he knows Geno is right. It’s been a while and he doesn’t want to push it. He wants to do this right, especially now that he’s making progress. The past week has been the hardest of his entire life, even worse than waking up after his injury or the first couple months of physio. He’s determined to do things right, starting now.

Now that he’s eaten Sid becomes aware of how he smells. He’s been in bed, or on the bathroom floor, for days, often drenched in a sweat. He’s getting pretty ripe smelling although his clothes are clean. He vaguely remembers his boxers and t-shirts being changed and the bed stripped, soiled linens exchanged for clean. He’s not been in the shower the whole time and it’s apparent by the odor emanating from him.

“I smell like ass,” Sid tells Geno.

Geno shrugs dismissively but then tells him, “Yeah, maybe time for shower? I help you if you want?”

“I can do it on my own,” Sid tells him. Geno looks sceptical when Sid wobbles a little as he slides off the chair.

“No. I come with you, Sid. Get shower ready at least.”

They make their halting way to Sid's bathroom. He feels as weak as a kitten. Geno sits him on the toilet seat and pulls his t-shirt over his head before turning and adjusting the water in the shower. When he’s got it right he pulls Sid up and helps him out of his sweat pants and boxers and then guides Sid onto the bench.

He hands Sid the shower gel and a facecloth and tells him, “I get clean clothes. You wash. Do your hair. Is gross, Sidney.”

Sid can’t help but laugh weakly. “You should have been a nurse.”

“Yeah. Maybe if hockey not work out.”

Geno picks up his discarded clothes and then tells him, “I leave towel out. Call if need anything, Sid.”

Sid leans back against the wall and shuts his eyes as the warm water runs down over his face. He feels like he’s been through the toughest series he’s ever played but for the first time he feels like he’s going to make it.

 

*************************************

 

It’s not easy. Getting off the Vicodin is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. Selander and Krylov move in with Sid and stay with him day and night over the next couple weeks, postponing their flight home to Europe for the summer. Geno is over every day checking on Sid, doing whatever he can to help.

The worst of the withdrawal symptoms have gone but Sid is still left with headaches that can only be treated with Tylenol. He watches movies to try to distract himself from them, or tries to nap until they pass. Without the Vicodin or alcohol he finds he’s again prone to anxiety attacks that he is powerless to prevent. One of them is so bad Geno ends up pulling Sid down onto the couch from his ceaseless pacing and holding him, talking to him until he can calm himself. It’s scary as hell.

Selander and Krylov do the cooking and take turns going out to shop. They watch movies or play games with Sid to while away the time, there for support and encouragement. Sid is getting stronger, feeling better, but always in the background is the gnawing craving for the pain pills. Even if his body doesn’t need them so much anymore his mind still wants them. Sid is determined to keep up the fight.

It’s a testament to how preoccupied he is with his struggle that it takes him so long to realize that Krylov and Selander are sharing a bed. When Sid finally mentions it the second week, how it’s probably not that comfortable for them both in the one room they both laugh at him and shake their heads.

“What?” Sid asks.

“Is okay, Sid,” Krylov tells him. “We used to sharing.”

Selander lets out another hoot of amusement. And that’s when it finally dawns on Sid that the two of them are lovers. It’s taken him a hell of a long time to figure that one out although now it seems obvious. And then Sid realizes that the team has known all along and that no one probably cares. It makes his life even more futile and depressing than it already was.

Selander’s just done a photo shoot for Vogue for fuck sake. Krylov has done a series of high profile endorsements. They are both poster boys for Sports Illustrated’s sexiest athletes and have legions of fans, both men and women. So much for morality clauses Sid thinks. Fuck.

Selander notices when Sid falls quiet and studies him a moment before asking, “You okay, Sid?”

Sid shakes his head ruefully. “Just thinking I should have clued in by now.”

Krylov gives his typical shrug. “Is not like we make big deal of it.”

The Russian has the same calm, fatalistic outlook on things that Alex always had and the memory jars at Sid a little. Not for the first time he wishes he’d done things differently when he had the chance but it doesn’t change anything. There’s no point in dwelling on the past.

“I admire you guys,” Sid tells them both, shaking his head. “You’re better than me.”

Selander gives Sid a pat on the shoulder. “We all do things in our own time,” he tells him.

All Sid can do is nod glumly. 

 

*******************************

 

After six weeks Sid’s pretty sure he’s going to make it. It’s time to go home and see his parents. It’s also time to let Selander and Krylov go home and get on with their lives in Europe. He owes them a lot, he knows that, probably his life. Geno’s over for dinner one night and Sid tells them how much he appreciates what they’ve done and tells them he’s ready to go home for the summer. Geno nods solemnly and the squeezes his shoulder before he starts clearing the table.

While the guys clean up Sid goes to his room and phones home. It’s a call he hasn’t been looking forward to. He hasn’t talked to his parents, either of them, since everything started. He’d been too sick and then too ashamed of himself to call. Sid knows Geno has been talking to his parents often, letting them know that Sid’s alright, but he’s only told them that Sid would call when he was ready. It’s time.

Sid’s mom picks up the phone after the first ring and catches him by surprise. He’s still trying to think what’s he’s going to say to them when he hears the familiar voice and immediately chokes up. He knows he’s scared the shit out of them.

“Hey, mom,” he finally gets out.

“Sidney? Oh god. We’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay?” she asks immediately.

“Yeah. I’m good, mom. I mean, I’m a lot better.” Before he can lose his nerve he keeps going. “I’m really sorry I worried you. I should have called sooner but I was having hard time. I’m really, really sorry.”

“Oh baby, it’s alright. Geno’s been calling us. As long as you’re alright now.” His mom hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s been going on, honey?”

“Can we talk about it when I come home, mom?” he asks.

“Of course, Sidney. When will that be?”

“This weekend. I’ll let you know what flight. Okay?”

“Do you want your dad and I to pick you up?” she asks immediately.

Sid feels a warm wave of affection for his mom and dad. He just really needs to be home. He’s slightly surprised when he has to wipe a couple stray tears off his cheeks. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

“Okay, honey. Just phone and let me know the flight. We’re all looking forward to seeing you. Everyone’s been asking when you’d be home.”

Sid smiles at that although he’s not sure he wants to see everyone just yet.

“Mom?” he asks. “Is it okay if I stay in my room?”

“You don’t want to stay out at your place?”

“I don’t think I should,” Sid tells her. “At least, not for a while. I’ve still got some things I need to work out. And I’d just rather be at home. If that’s okay,” he adds softly.

“Of course it is, honey. It’ll always be your room. You’re welcome any time.”

And so Sid flies home like he does every summer only this year he moves back into his old room, into the double bed he slept in his whole childhood, surrounded by all his childhood hockey memorabilia. It’s partly for practical reasons because he still can’t drive but it’s really just great to be home.

He spends the first couple weeks helping his dad rebuild the deck on the beach cottage. It’s good to get outside and do something physical, concentrate on something else besides how much he’d like a drink or a couple vics. Sid’s still pretty weak and has to take it slow but he can help with the table saw and actually screwing the deck boards down is good for his hand eye coordination.

He comes clean to his parents about his problems with alcohol and prescription pain killers. He assures them how determined he is to never let it happen again. His parents suggest he get some counselling and Sid reluctantly agrees. He feels like it’s the least he can do after what he’s put them through.

He starts seeing a guy who does substance abuse counselling and finds it actually helps. At least he gives Sid some tools for chronic pain management and some new techniques to try when he gets his anxiety attacks. It’s all easier said than done but Sid’s game to try anything that might help. So long as he never ends up on the bathroom floor, curled around the toilet and puking his guts out again.

Sid’s parents half-heartedly suggest he go out with his buddies but he tells them no. This isn’t the time for it. He’s not ready. There’s no way he wants to put himself in a position where he’ll give in to temptation. The bar scene would be far, far too much temptation. No, he’s all about staying home and keeping a low profile. He watches a lot of sports with his dad.

At the end of the summer he’s feeling stronger and a hell of a lot healthier. The days spent outdoors working around the house or fishing have left him tanned and his hair, longer than he’s used to keeping it, is bleached light from the sun. He hasn’t been to a gym or any physiotherapy but he’s been walking with his mom and his gait has improved considerably. He’s had only a few headaches, none of them severe, and best of all he’s been seizure free. Like his councillor tells him, “one step at a time”.

His parents want him to stay on. They don’t see what the point is in returning to Pittsburgh when he can’t play anymore. Sid’s not entirely sure either but he wants to go anyway. There’s just too much baggage in Halifax for him. Everyone knows who he is and he’ll always be that poor Crosby kid who had such a great career before he got hurt so bad. Everywhere he goes there’s someone who has a sympathetic look or a kind word for him. Sid knows they all mean well but it still gets him down.

He needs the anonymity of a city the size of Pittsburgh where even though he was a professional athlete, a hell of a lot of people still don’t recognize him when he’s out. Hockey is just one of the games in town. Sid knows he needs to build himself a life outside of hockey and at least in Pittsburgh he’s got the team and his friends. It’s become a second home to him.

He asks Jordie to pick him up at the airport. He’s hoping he gets the green light to drive again when he sees his neurologist next but in the mean time Jordie moves in and takes on the roll of designated driver. Sid’s knows he’s damn lucky to have the people around him he does. His other team mates drop by often or invite him over for dinner and although he’s sure it’s Mario or Geno behind everything Sid’s not calling anyone on it. He knows it’s for the best that he’s not on his own right now even though the vodka stockpile is long gone. Geno probably drank it all, the bastard.

 

**************************************

 

Sid settles back into a routine of sorts in Pittsburgh, one very different than previous, a life without playing hockey. Where other years he now would be ramping up his fitness training in preparation for training camp this season Sid takes it easy. He does go back to physiotherapy in the hopes it will alleviate the deficits left by his head injury. He also drags his bike out of storage and rides along with Jordie while he runs, heckling him during his wind sprints.

Jordie takes him in to see Dr. James for his follow up appointment. She sends him for more tests and some rigorous neuro assessments and then finally tells him he’s free to drive. It’s a huge relief not to be dependent on others for his transportation. And it comes just in time. Training camp is starting and Jordie’s time is quickly getting tied up with hockey. It won’t be long before the season starts and the team will be away on the road half the time.

Sometimes Sid goes to the rink to work out in the gym with the guys. The trainers adjust his routine and he gamely works out but it’s hard to push himself when there’s no reason. Sid puts on his skates a couple times and does a few turns around the ice while the guys are warming up. He’s come a long way but he’s not kidding himself, or anyone else. He’s not coming back.

 

***************************************

 

It gets tougher when the season starts. The guys are totally immersed in hockey, day and night. Sid still sees them at the gym and watches some of the practises but he’s just an observer now. He knows he should probably make a move, get some distance from the Penguins and find some outside interests but he just can’t make himself do it. Hockey was his life.

He goes out with the team one night after a game and almost has a relapse. It’s a close thing. Just being in that environment, with everyone drinking beer and getting a buzz on makes Sid let down his guard. He decides one beer won’t hurt and it leads to another. Geno gives him a disapproving look when he sees him but Sid ignores him. When it’s time to go home Geno insists they share a cab and Sid at least has the presence of mind not to argue.

When he gets home the craving for more alcohol or SOMETHING is so strong he contemplates for a moment seeing if the grocery store will still deliver. He’s almost ready to make the call when he has a flashback to how he was the previous spring, collapsed on the bathroom floor retching his guts out and he puts his phone down. Just, no. The next morning he gets a recommendation from the team for a therapist and makes an appointment to go.

Sid runs into Mario one morning when he’s leaving the rink. He asks Sid what he’s up to and when Sid snorts and tells him “not much,” Mario suggests he coach a midget team for underprivileged kids the Penguins organization is sponsoring. Sid’s first instinct is to say no, he doesn’t know anything about coaching kids, but Mario presses him. He tells Sid that he knows a lot more than he thinks he does. Anyway, right now they don’t have a coach at all so anyone would be an improvement. Most of the kids have never played hockey before either so they won’t know the difference.

It turns out to be a blast. What the kids lack in experience they make up for enthusiasm and Sid is immediately captivated by them. They love Sid right back and he’s soon fully involved in teaching them the basics of hockey and a love for the game. The kids on his team are from one of Pittsburgh’s grittiest neighbourhoods and they haven’t had many good breaks. Learning to play hockey gives them a chance to just be kids. They have a blast. So does Sid. But then he’s just a kid at heart himself when it comes to hockey.

Mario also lines Sid up for some PR work for the Penguins. He makes some appearances around Pittsburgh and does charity work and it’s all okay. He enjoys meeting people and talking hockey with them. But it can be bittersweet. Everyone wants to talk to him about his former career when all Sid really wants to do is look forward. He doesn’t want to dwell on the past. He’d rather be coaching his kids.

Everything keeps him busy, all in all. Sid’s life hits a comfortable rhythm; physio and working out at the gym, weekly visits with his therapist, some charity work, hanging with the guys when they’re in town and of course coaching his team. When Christmas rolls around and his parents arrive in town Sid is mildly surprised at where the time has gone. He’s even more surprised when he realizes how much he’s actually been enjoying himself.

Mario invites Sid and his family over for dinner on Boxing Day. The two families have known each other for years and it’s good to all get together. Taylor and Austin catch up; they’ve been friends for years and they disappear after dinner to compare notes on their hockey careers. The dads wander off to see what sports are on TV while the mom’s clean up after dinner with Lauren and Steph, both home from university. Sid is about to go find the dads when he realizes Mario’s youngest daughter Alexa isn’t with her sisters in the kitchen.

“Where’s Lexie?” he asks Nathalie.

Nathalie looks up from where she’s loading the dishwasher and smiles. “Not sure, Sid. Maybe look in her room?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agrees and then heads down the wing towards the bedrooms. Sid’s always liked all the Lemieux kids, but he’s shared a special bond with Alexa and he hasn’t seen her in a long time. He’d always been drawn to Alexa and he wants to catch up.

Alexa, or Lexie, is the baby of the family and not at all like her attractive, genial older sisters. All awkward angles, thin and plain looking and more reserved than her bubbly siblings. When Sid first moved in with the Lemieuxs she’d followed him around like a puppy and as she got older they’d hung out together and played video games. She’d graduated from high school last spring and Mario had told him she was attending the city university now.

Sid wants to hear all about school but he also wanted to know how she was doing; she’d been pretty quiet all through dinner. Not that quiet was unusual for Alexa. She’s always been pretty reserved, not one to show her hand. But she’d definitely looked like she had things on her mind during dinner.

The door to Alexa’s room is open when Sid gets there and he knocks on the doorframe as he walks in. They’ve got a special code he’s always used, one she recognizes over those of the rest of her family. Alexa is sitting cross legged on her bed bent over her laptop. When she hears the knock she smiles softly and looks up.

“Hey, Sid,” she says.

“Hey, Lexie. How’s it going?”

“It’s going,” she tells him before she pops her laptop shut. “How are you doing?”

“Not bad, considering,” Sid assures her. “How’s school?” he asks as he sits down on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Good.”

“So, what courses are you taking?” Sid prompts once he sees that’s all she’s going to say. Getting information from Alexa can be pretty tough sledding.

She shrugs before wrapping her arms around her knees. “First year arts, that sort of stuff,” she tells him.

Sid watches as she gnaws at her thumbnail. “You were pretty quiet at dinner, Squirt” he finally says, using the nickname he’d had for her when she was a kid.

Alexa tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and shrugs again. “You know me, Sid. Just being my normal dorky self.”

Sid nods thoughtfully, waiting a minute to see if she’d elaborate. Nope.

“You know, if you ever need anyone to talk to,” he tells her. “Someone other than your mom and dad or your sisters?”

Sid watches as she worries her lower lip with her teeth. She’s definitely got something on her mind by the look of things. Finally she sighs as if she’s come to a decision.

“I think I might be gay,” she tells him. “Well, I’m pretty sure I am.”

She turns to Sid with a guarded look and waits for his reaction. Sid’s not quite sure what to say but one thing he knows is that he’s not going to insult her by asking her if she’s sure. If there’s one thing about Alexa it’s that she knows her mind.

Instead he asks, “Have you known for a while?”

She rests her chin on her knees and watches him a minute. “Yeah. Years really. Always knew there was something different about me. Just took this year at school to figure some things out.”

“Have you told your parents?” Sid asks her.

“No,” Alexa tells him immediately. “Scared to.”

“Don’t be. They won’t care.”

Alexa looks at him as if he doesn’t have a clue what he’s talking about. “Yeah. Right. They’re Catholic, Sid. Homosexuality isn’t big on their list.”

It’s Sid’s turn to shrug. “I mean it. You can tell them Squirt. It won’t matter.”

“You don’t know that, Sid,” she challenges him.

Sid lets out a deep breath. He knows he has to say something. It’s about time he stepped up to the plate and made an attempt to be honest about himself, if only to help out a kid who’s a lot more perceptive than he ever was.

“Cause I know, Lexie. Because I’m gay, and your dad knows, and he doesn’t care.”

He looks back at her and for a moment she looks like she’s going to swallow her tongue she’s so surprised. Then she looks at him suspiciously as if she can’t bring herself to believe him.

“Seriously?”

Sid smiles at her sheepishly. “Yeah. I am. Or I should say I realized I’m bi.” Sid looks down at where his hands are twisting nervously in his lap. “Although, I’d have to say now that I’m probably really just gay.”

There’s dead silence in the room and Sid tries to think of something meaningful to say that would help Alexa but he’s got nothing. It’s not as if he’s the poster child of gay enlightenment or anything. But one thing he does know for a certainty is that Mario and Nathalie love their kids and if Mario can find it in his Catholic heart to accept Sid he will do no less for his own children.

“So yeah, you don’t have to worry about telling your parents, Lexie. I’m pretty sure.” he assures her.

He gives her what he hopes is a reassuring smile and he’s rewarded when she smiles back and then takes his hand in hers.

“Thanks for telling me, Sid.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles at her a bit wider. “Does it help?”

Alexa just laughs softly. “Kind of,” she tells him. Sid squeezes her much smaller hand gently. 

“Good.”

They sit in companionable silence while the sounds of the household go on around them. Sid can hear Mario yelling something in French out in the family room. They must have found a game on.

“Sid?”

“Yeah, Squirt?”

“Is it hard?” Alexa asks him. “I mean, being out. You know, with everyone, with the people you’ve known forever?”

Sid shakes his head. “I’m not exactly there yet, Alexa, I’m afraid. But yeah, I don’t think it’ll be easy. But if you ever need someone to talk to you can call me. Okay? I mean it. Any time.”

“Okay,” she says nodding her head.

“So, do you have a girlfriend?”

“No. I’ve just been going to some meetings and shit at the university.”

“Good. That’ll help,” Sid nods. He’s glad she’s got some kind of a support system at school. No matter what it is it’s got to be better than the NHL.

Alex looks at him with a smile, “Hey, maybe we can go check out some gay bars one day?”  
Okay, that makes Sid laugh. “Hah, nice try. You’re nowhere close to twenty-one yet. Your dad would kill me.”

Alexa laughs and then slaps him on the leg. “Stick in the mud.”

“Yup,” Sid agrees. “That’s me. Come on. Let’s go see what everyone else is up to? Okay?”

 

****************************************

 

The rest of the winter seems to drag on forever, snow storm after snow storm, some of the coldest temperatures on record but then all of a sudden, come mid March it’s finally over. The weather has finally changed for the better and the days are getting longer.

Sid starts running again at the urging of his physiotherapist Brent. They try to get out two or three times a week. They keep it slow to begin with but when Sid has no headaches afterwards they gradually pick up the pace and distance. Sid is slightly self-conscious about his still awkward gait but it gives him a real sense of accomplishment to get back to doing something he had always taken for granted.

Brent’s gone from being Sid’s physiotherapist to also being a good friend. It’s probably Geno’s fault but at some point in the fall Brent casually asks Sid out for a drink. Sid is taken aback for a moment; he’s not used to the idea that it’s okay for people to know he’s gay. He begs off, saying he’s got plans and Brent leaves the offer open for another time. Sid thinks about the idea a couple days, tries to get his head around actually dating a guy and decides that though Brent is a good guy, Sid’s not ready. It doesn’t feel right.

He lets Brent down gently, telling him as much and he’s happy when Brent is cool about it and tells him they should just hang out instead. Sid likes that. He goes over to Brent’s sometimes and they watch movies or they go out for something to eat. When the weather improves they start jogging. Brent says he’s doing it to get in shape for basketball but Sid knows he’s doing it to help him.

It’s a warm spring day and Sid’s spent it going for a run with Brent and then shooting some hoops at a school near his apartment. They go to a sports bar for some dinner and while they are waiting for the food to arrive Sid catches a glimpse of a familiar figure on the TV behind the bar. He stops what he’s saying in mid sentence and stares at the screen. It feels as if the bottom has dropped out of his world.

Brent immediately turns to see what has captured Sid’s attention and then looks back at him with a concerned look.

“You okay, Sid?” he asks.

Sid nods absently while he continues to watch the screen. He can’t hear what’s being said over the dull hubbub around them but he can clearly see Alex in uniform being helped from the ice, a teammate on each side of him. When the camera pans in Sid can see that Alex’s jaw is clenched in pain. Sid is momentarily stunned that he didn’t even realize he was back in North America and playing again. How could he have not heard?

They both watch as Alex is half carried down towards the dressing room, his injured leg dangling uselessly. The bartender is watching the screen too and Brent calls to him, “What are they saying, Ted?”

“Looks like Ovechkin’s blown out his knee again,” the bartender tells them. “To bad, he’s only been back a couple games. The Caps could use him.”

Brent turns back to Sid again and asks him, “Do you know him, Sid?”

Sid finds he has to clear his throat before he can speak and he delays further by taking a sip of his coffee before he answers. “Yeah. Yeah, I do,” Sid tells him. “Or I did, anyway. I didn’t know he was playing again.”

Sid’s voice is a little hoarse and he takes another mouthful of coffee. His mouth is suddenly very dry. Brent is watching Sid carefully and looking like he’s going to ask more questions but the waitress comes right then with their burgers. Sid smiles gamely when she sets it in front of him, grateful of the interruption.

Sid is quiet during dinner, driven introspective by seeing Alex after so long. The events of the past year had been enough to knock the other man from Sid’s thoughts but seeing him on the sports program bring everything flooding back. Sid knows the team is on a road trip to the west coast so he can’t really call Geno and pump him for information. He’ll have to wait a few days.

That night Sid goes home and thinks about calling Alex. It takes him an hour to get up his nerve but he knows he needs to do it. When he dials the number he’s still got programmed into his phone he gets a recorded message that the number is no longer in service. He sighs and then puts down his phone. It’s probably for the best. So much time has passed. No doubt Alex has moved on.

The next week Sid calls Geno to see what he knows. It’s not much. Geno hadn’t known Alex was back either. Apparently the return had been without fanfare. Geno’s been preoccupied with Natasha and the new baby. He hasn’t been keeping up on the Russian gossip but he promises to find out what he can and report back to Sid.

It takes a few days but Geno is as good as his word. Unfortunately the news is not good. Alex has indeed blown his knee again, had surgery and has already flown back to Russia to recover. Sid doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or relieved. Geno does give Sid Alex’s new phone number though and tells him if he’s interested at all anymore he should call. Sid puts the number in his phone but doesn’t do anything about it.

His kids are having a good season and the playoffs are coming up. He’s got to concentrate on his coaching at this critical time. Brent’s also talked him into doing some upgrading at the community college so he’s got homework most nights. Sid thinks he might like to become some kind of youth counsellor or something one day if he can get into a school. He’s not sure he’ll stick with it but hell, it’s a goal. It gives him something to work towards. Some nights though, when he’s struggling with an English essay, he wants to take Brent and slap him.

Sid follows the team peripherally during their run up to the playoffs and he’s as disappointed as anyone when they fall short. He feels for the guys, particularly the young ones like Krylov and Selander. He and Geno have won their Cup but the younger guys are still hungry. Sid wishes there were something he could do to help make their dream come true.

The Bruins end up winning the Cup. It’s not a surprise; they’ve dominated the league all year but what is slightly surprising is that their all star defenseman York, manages to out himself during the post game celebration when his long term partner jumps over the boards and climbs up him while the cameras are rolling. The onscreen kiss they share is televised coasted to coast. Sid thinks it’s really hot. It’s also the only time he can ever remember seeing Don Cherry speechless.

What’s even more surprising is the fact that York is completely honest with all questions about who the guy was with his legs wrapped around him on the ice. He talks frankly about their relationship, thanking his partner for his tireless support and saying how much he loves him. And a little to Sid’s surprise, no one seems to care. At least, it’s not the controversial news that Sid had always thought such a turn of events would be. It seems that while Sid has been preoccupied with his own health problems the world has slowly changed.

A few weeks later he meets the guys for dinner to catch up. Jordie urges Sid to give Alex a call; tells him he needs to try again. Sid goes home and thinks about it a while. Finally he picks up the phone but it’s not Alex he calls. He phones his mom and dad and tells them he’s coming home for a visit. There are some things he needs to tell them. It’s time.


	16. Sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Almost done. Thanks for your patience everyone. And all the encouragement. One more chapter after this one. Will post when I get back from vacation in two weeks.

Sid’s parents are waiting for him at arrivals when he gets in and Sid pulls his mom into a big hug as soon as he sees her. She’s got tears in her eyes. He’d seen them at Christmas and they know he’s doing a lot better but it’s still been too long. His mom finally lets go, Sid holds his hand out to shake his fathers and is slightly surprised when his dad pulls him in for a hug as well. He’s never really been one for PDA’s, especially with other guys.

They share a companionable drive home with Sid telling them all about his kids and how they managed to make it all the way to the finals before losing to a team that had been together for years. Sid had gone out and bought new uniforms to his team so that they could at least look the part and the new look must have inspired the kids. They played like champs. Sid has never been more proud of anyone in his life

Sid spends the first couple days following his mom around, helping her with things, until she finally gives him an exasperated look and asks him if he needs anything. By this point his dad’s been called out of town with work so Sid amuses himself doing a few odd jobs and tries to steel himself for the conversation he needs to have when his dad gets back. When his mom asks if everything is okay he mumbles something reassuring and beats a hasty retreat. It’s time to replace the gasket in that leaky faucet in the utility sink.

Sid’s dad gets back Friday night. When a couple of Sid’s buddies stop by to see if he wants to go out with them for dinner and he turns them down flat so he can hang out with his parents he’s afraid he may have tipped his hand. His mom and dad exchange puzzled glances and his mom asks, “Sidney, is something wrong?”

“No. Everything’s good. I just thought it would be nice to spend some time together with you both,” he tells them. He aims for a casual air but isn’t sure he’s successful.

“Sure, son,” his dad, tells him cautiously. “As long as you’re doing alright?”

Sid’s pretty sure his dad’s got his eyebrows raised when he turns away from him to wave goodbye to his buddies. His mom still just looks concerned. Sid can’t blame either of them. He’s given them a lot of worry of the last couple years.

“Yeah. I’m fine, dad,” Sid assures him as he watches the beat up pick-up pull away. His parents obviously aren’t totally buying his reassurances. They share another look and Sid finally gives in. He knows he has to put them out of their misery.

He lets out a long breath and tells them, “Actually, I just need to talk to you. There’s something I want to tell you.”

Sid’s dad nods glumly. Sid’s pretty sure he thinks Sid is going to tell him he’s back on drugs or is finally going into rehab. His mom’s got her own ideas. “You’re not getting back together with Christine, are you?” she asks.

His dad looks at him immediately for confirmation and their worried expressions are almost enough to make him laugh.

“No! Mom, that’s not it. I swear.”

Trina looks noticeably relieved and manages a feeble smile at the news. Jesus, he had no idea they disliked Christine so much. “Oh, well that’s good, honey. What is it you want to tell us?”

She looks almost like she’s faced the worst and can handle anything now. Sid’s dad claps him on the shoulder and tells him, “Why don’t we go sit in the living room and you can tell us what’s on your mind.”

Sid nods and they all file inside. Sid waits until his mom chooses a spot on the couch and then sits down beside her. His dad sits in his usual spot, the armchair front and center before the TV. They both look at him expectably while he looks down at his hands and fidgets. It’s so quiet he can hear the clock ticking on the mantle while he gathers his nerve to start.

“Mom, dad, there’s something I need to tell you. I’ve been wanting to for a while but it’s just hard.”

He pauses and they both nod encouragingly. “Yeah, um,” Sid flounders. His father regards him with a bland look. Sid lets out another breath.

“I’m gay,” he finally blurts out.

The first thing he does is look up at his dad to see his reaction. Troy doesn’t say anything but Sid can see his jaw clench reflexively and he stares down at a spot five feet in front of his chair. It must be pretty fascinating because he doesn’t look back up at Sid even when he clears his throat nervously.

Sid’s mom blinks in surprise. “But Sidney, what about Christine?”

“Yeah, I know. It took me a while to figure it out. But I’ve been thinking about it a lot and I’m pretty sure now. I was just afraid to tell you.”

Sid pauses and chews on his lower lip nervously before finishing with, “I’m really sorry.”

Sid turns from his dad to his mom and he sees that her mouth has dropped open in surprise. It must be some kind of delayed reaction to the news Sid figures. She’s probably figured out he won’t be supplying her with any grandchildren. He’s ready to apologize again when she speaks. It’s not at all what he’s expecting.

“Honey? Why are you apologizing? There’s absolutely nothing to be sorry about,” she tells him, her lips pursed indignantly.

It’s Sid’s turn to look surprised. He’s always believed that being gay was a bad thing. He’s seen the disapproving “tisks” and head shakes while they have been watching the news. Trina’s reaction doesn’t really compute. Troy’s relaxed his jaw somewhat and how has a benign expression on his face. Sid just looks from one to the other, not sure where to go with this.

“But what about Andrew?” he finally asks.

Trina has to think for a second. “Andrew Beck? Margaret’s son?” she asks Sid. She looks puzzled. He nods his head in confirmation.

“What’s Andrew got to do with anything,” Sid’s dad breaks in. “Good little hockey player from what I remember. Had a hell of a shot. You two played together in peewee. Whatever happened to him, Trina?” Troy’s clearly not following Sid’s line of reasoning either.

Sid looks from one to the other before he explains. “Yeah. He was gay. I remember when he came out. It was awful. People really sucked.”

Trina makes a dismissive gesture and then takes Sid’s hand. “Honey, you don’t think your father and I care that you’re gay, do you?” She looks slightly wounded.

Sid frowns. It’s exactly what he does think; what he’s been afraid of for years. “I remember the two of you talking about Andrew when he came out. I heard you. You didn’t know I was listening but I was. I remember you saying you were glad it wasn’t me. You said that it was a good thing it wasn’t Sidney. Except that it is,” he concludes glumly.

“That was a long time ago, Sidney,” his dad tells him. “Times were different.”

Sid knows that. He’s just always been so sure it would matter, even now. He swallows convulsively and the damn clock keeps tick, tick, ticking. All these years, he thinks.

“Oh, honey,” his mom finally says. “It wasn’t because Andrew was gay. It was hard for Margaret and Ted, hard for the whole family. We all just love our kids so much and we don’t want to see them get hurt. People can be so cruel. We were glad it wasn’t happening to you. That was all. It wasn’t because Andrew was gay.”

Sid doesn’t say anything, thinking about what she’d just said. It’s like an enormous weight has been lifted off his shoulders. He looks back to his dad and Troy just nods before Trina continues.

“I still keep in touch with Marg. I talked to her a couple weeks ago. Andrew’s doing well. He’s a lawyer in Montreal now. He and his partner just adopted a baby. They got married a couple years ago.”

Trina has a warm smile on her face at the thought of babies. “Wow,” is all Sid can manage. He knows how much his mom wants grandchildren and he catches himself feeling guilty again that he’s still going to manage to disappoint her.

“Sidney, is there anyone? Anyone important to you? A boyfriend?” she asks. She seems unsure of the terminology to use. “Are you seeing someone?”

Sid clears his throat and he can feel himself blush. It’s time to be completely honest with the rest of it. “Not really. There’s no one now. There was. But not anymore.”

Trina reaches across and takes his hand in hers. “Was he a hockey player?” she asks.  
Sid swallows hard and just nods.

“On your team?”

Sid looks up and shakes his head, startled, because that would be really awkward. “Um, no. No one on the Penguins,” he tells her quickly. “He was, he is, on a different team. He knows some of the guys on the team.”

Trina just looks at him, obviously curious but not sure how to ask for any more details. Finally she starts in. “Did you see each other for long? Was it serious? Don’t be so secretive. Honestly, Sidney, a mother needs to know these things.”

“Yeah. We saw each other for a couple years off and on. When our teams met. We’d talk on the phone and stuff. It was nice.” He can’t help but smile when he thinks about Alex.

“Did you love him?”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I did,” Sid admits, blowing out a breath. “I kind of still do. I think.”

Sid’s mom squeezes his hand in hers and smiles at his uncertainty, at the effort it takes him to say the words. Her hand is warm where his feels as if it’s been frozen in ice. “Does he know how you feel?”

Sid shrugs. “I haven’t talked to him in a long time.”

“But you still think about him?”

Sid nods. He doesn’t trust himself to speak.

“And you miss him?”

Sid nods again, this time feeling tears spill onto his cheeks. And then his mother is there, pulling him into a hug, comforting him, or trying to as best she can, like only a mom can. He hangs onto her even though she’s half his size, leaning down so that he can rest his head on her chest. She pats his head like she would when he was broken hearted after losing a game when he was a child, runs her fingers through his hair.

“You need to talk to him, honey. You need to tell him. Make sure he knows how you feel.”

“I think I really hurt him. He probably hates me. Or doesn’t care,” Sid tells her. “What if he doesn’t want me anymore?” Sid chokes out.

“You’ll never know if you don’t say anything, honey,” Trina tells him and then kisses the top of his head lovingly.

It’s the same love and acceptance he’s always known from his mom and for the first time in forever Sid feels like maybe things will be alright. Sid’s dad gets up and stands in front of him, holding out a hand so that Sid can take it. He pulls Sid to his feet and then engulfs him in a crushing hug. He slaps Sid the back a couple times, hard enough to make his eyes water.

“Okay, buddy. Enough of this talk. No more apologizing, okay?” He pulls away from Sid so he can look at his face, waiting for his confirmation.

Sid sniffs loudly. “Yeah, okay.” He smiles at his dad. “Thanks.”

Troy pats him on the back again and then ruffles the hair on the back of his head affectionately.  
“Let’s walk down to the pub for a beer while mom makes dinner. I’ll buy,” he offers. “And you can tell me what the hell happened to the Penguins this year.”

 

**********************************************

 

Sid spends a couple more days puttering around his parents, letting the whole I’m an out gay son thing settle in a little bit. It reassures Sid when his parents don’t treat him any differently than before. He does have one rough moment when he’s helping his mom clean up after breakfast the second morning. Trina is bending over loading the dishwasher and when she stands up Sid can see there are tears in her eyes.

“What’s wrong, mom,” Sid asks her immediately.

“Oh, honey,” she tells him, wiping the tears impatiently from her cheeks. “No wonder you were so unhappy with Christine,” she tells him. She looks at him helplessly. “You should have said something to us. We would have understood. We could have helped. It didn’t have to get that bad,” she tells him.

Sid flushes when she refers to his substance abuse issues and the shitshow that ensued but Sid doesn’t want his mom taking any of the responsibility for what he did to himself.

“No, mom. It’s okay. Don’t take that on.”

Trina is unconvinced. “We should have known you were struggling. We should have been able to tell how unhappy you were.”

“That had nothing to do with you and dad,” Sid insists. “It’s something that’s part of me. Okay? I didn’t handle things very well. But I’m trying to make it better. Things are better,” Sid assures his mom.

He smiles at his mom and she gives him a tremulous smile in return before he pulls her into a hug. Trina sniffs a couple times against his chest and then pushes back so that she can look up into his eyes.

“We’re so proud of you, Sidney,” she tells him and he gives her a self-conscious smile.   
“Thanks.”

Trina dabs at her eyes one more time and then crosses her arms. “Isn’t it about time you called Alex?” she prods.

“Yeah,” Sid agrees. I think so.”

 

***********************************************

 

Sid waits until the next day before he makes the call. It’s slightly anticlimactic; the number is not in service. Sid turns off his phone impatiently. Alex Ovechkin seems to go through more phone plans than Jordie does girlfriends. He swears under his breath and calls Geno. They exchange pleasantries for a couple minutes before Sid gets to the point. A couple minutes later he’s got the Ovechkin’s home phone number at their dacha outside Moscow.

Sid figures out the time zones and calls when he knows it’s late morning in Moscow. The phone rings several times before it’s picked up by a woman. It’s not the best connection and Sid isn’t sure if it’s Alex’s mom he’s speaking to or maybe an aunt. Whoever it is, they answer in Russian and seem to know very little English. When Sid asks to speak to Alex he’s passed to someone else, this time to a man who speaks heavily accented English.

Sid tells him again who’s calling and asks if he can talk to Alex. Apparently Alex isn’t there at the moment but the guy does promise to give Alex the message that Sid has called. Sid leaves his number and asks that Alex call him back as soon as he can. The short conversation leaves him flushed with nerves and when he shuts down his cell he paces around the house at loose ends.

Two days go by and Alex doesn’t phone back. Sid’s hopes sink. He’s not going to call, Sid tells himself. It’s been too long. He doesn’t want to talk to you. He’s moved on, Sid tells himself over and over again. He only feels worse when his mom watches him pick up his phone over and over only to put it down again and gives him a pitying looks. Every time his phone rings Sid snatches it up only to be disappointed when it’s someone else.

Sid finally shrugs it off and tries calling again. This time he gets an answering machine and leaves a long, rambling message, not caring who hears what he has to say.

“Hey, I’m looking for Alex,” he starts. “It’s Sid. I know it’s been a long time, but I really want to talk to you so if you could call me I would really appreciate it. I’ve been thinking about you and I hope you’re doing okay. I really need to talk. Okay?”

Sid stops talking. He’s not sure what else to say. When he notices how long he’s paused he signs. “Anyway, I better go. Here’s my number. I really hope you call me, Alex. I miss you. Anyway, yeah, please call me.”

Sid has to swallow hard when he turns off his phone and his eyes prick with tears. The next morning there’s still no call. Sid decides he needs to change tacks. He recalculates the time zones and phones a third time, this time when he knows it’s the middle of the night Moscow time. Let Alex’s damn family pick this one up Sid thinks. Unless Alex is out clubbing, which come to think of it, is a possibility except that it’s a Sunday night, he should be home.

It rings three times before someone answers. Whoever it is seems to be having problems with the phone; Sid hears a loud bang as the receiver hits something and then there is soft swearing in Russian. He can hear someone’s throat being cleared and then they answer. Even though it is in Russian, Sid can tell immediately that it’s Alex. He can’t help but smile when he hears the familiar voice.

“Hello,” Alex rasps out.

“Alex,” Sid says, and thinks he should have cleared his throat first too. And then he wishes he’d called him Sasha instead.

“Sid?” he hears Alex say blankly. There is a pause. “Sid,” Alex repeats, with a tone of puzzled surprise starting to filter into his voice.

He doesn’t sound angry. But then it’s been a long time. 

“Yeah,” Sid says. “Um, how are you?”

“Ah, I’m –I-alright, I guess,” Alex answers guardedly. There’s silence over the line for a moment except for the faint buzz of static. “Sometime not so good,” he adds a little shakily, “Bad knee still. Can’t play. You know?”

Sid smiles and his eyes close. “I know. You should figure it out though,” he scolds gently.

“What?” Alex asks him.

“Figure out whether you’re alright or not,” Sid explains.

He can hear Alex snort. He’s taken aback. And then he chuckles before he replies. “Sid, wow. Been long time. Hey, how are you?” He sounds like he actually cares and Sid is heartened enough to answer honestly.

“It’s been tough. I’m finished with hockey. I had a hard time with it at first,” he tells Alex, and his throat closes up a little when he says it. It’s still hard when he lets the reality sinks in.

Alex makes a sympathetic noise and tells him, “Yeah. I hear. So sorry, Sid. Is too bad. But, hey, Ovie in same boat probably. Bad knees.”

“Oh?” Sid says softly, even though he’s already heard this from Geno. He’s read the news stories on the internet.

“You playing this year?” he asks.

“Not sure yet. Had more surgery this spring. Go to training camp in fall and see,” he tells Sid. “If no, I maybe retire. Like Bobby Orr.”

“That sucks,” Sid tells him and just gets a dismissive sound in return. Sid can think of a million questions that come up over that idea. Where will you go? What will you do? And more importantly, will there be any reason for the two of us to ever be on the same fucking continent together again? Instead he asks, “So, when are you coming back over here?”

Sid can hear Alex yawning and he remembers what time it must be in Moscow. “Not sure. Nothing booked yet. Just......” he pauses and then asks Sid, “So, where are you? What you doing? Now not in hockey?”

“Not much. Still in Pittsburgh. Ah, I’m working for the Penguins a bit. I really miss playing,”

Sid’s admission is so heartfelt that Alex immediately picks up on it and responds with a sympathetic noise.

“Would be hard, Sid. I know. Is your life.”

Sid nods, “Used to be,” he manages to say grimly. He doesn’t know what to say after that and then he remembers his kids.

“But hey, I’m coaching a peewee team,” Sid tells Alex. “Mario asked me if I’d try it and it’s actually great. We almost won the league championship.”

It’s probably not what Alex’s expected him to tell him because he sounds a little surprised when he says, “Really? Was good?”

“Yeah,” Sid tells him. “The kids are great. And it gives me something to do. You know?”

“Is good to be busy,” Alex agrees.

“Yeah.”

Sid can hear Alex yawn again and then he apologizes. “Sorry, is very late here, Sid,” before getting to the point, what he’s probably been wondering the whole time. “So, Sid. Is good to hear from you but……why you call?”

Sid flounders a minute now that the time has come to man up about things. “I, ah, I guess I’ve been thinking about you, about things, a lot” he admits. “About how things ended.”

All Sid can hear again is the static all the way from Russia and then Alex finally tells him, “Seem like forever ago.”

Sid says, “I know.”

“I mean, fuck, two....three years.”

Sid doesn’t know what to say. He thinks “Sorry” isn’t it, but he says it anyway.

There is only silence for a moment and then Sid can hear Alex’s quiet breathing. He’s almost ready to break down and say more when he hears Alex’s breath catch and then Alex tells him quietly, “Me too.”

There’s a silence again, but neither of them to want to hang up so they talk a bit about their families and the players they both know. It’s tentative, the two of them are cautious with each other, not sure where they stand but Sid finds himself smiling softly into his phone. Finally Alex yawns again, more loudly this time, and says, “Okay, Sid. Was good to talk. But I have to sleep. Have appointment in morning with doctor. I should go.”

Sid’s heart sinks and he feels a moment of panic. He’s not ready to let go. “Yeah, I guess. Um, sorry, you know about the time. I just wanted to try to get you when you were home.”

Alex chuckles. “Yeah. Was home. Early nights,” he says wearily. “Old man now.”

“It’s just that I called a couple times and left messages,” Sid feels he needs to explain.

“You did?” Alex seems surprised by this. “Who you tell?”

“I don’t know,” Sid tells him. “Your mom maybe?”

Alex makes an irritated noise and then sighs. “Sorry, Sid. She don’t say. Mom try keep me safe. All kind of people want all kinds of things,” he explains. And Sid understands. It’s what all mom’s want, their kids to be safe and happy. They want to keep their hearts safe, not troubled by former boyfriends who don’t know what they want.

“It’s okay,” Sid tells him and then before he can lose his nerve he continues. “So, I was wondering if you’ve ever been to Nova Scotia yet?”

Sid and Alex had kidded each other in the past about who had the most idyllic vacations in the summer. Sid would describe his lazy days at the beach or fishing and Alex would laugh. He was a city boy, wanting the nightclubs of Moscow in his time off. Sid had always wanted to bring him to Halifax to see something different.

“Um, no,” Alex answers, sounding slightly puzzled.

“What do you think about the beach?” Sid asks him.

“You mean, like going to one?” Alex asks.

“Yeah.”

“Swimming in ocean?”

Sid laughs in amusement. “Yeah.”

“I don’t know, Sid. Not many beaches around Moscow. I guess it be nice,” he says noncommittally.  
Sid lets out a long breath and soldiers on. “It’s just that, my grandparents have this cabin at the beach, right on the water, and it’s really nice. It’s beautiful. I have a couple weeks off coming up and I was thinking of going there. It’s cool. Eat seafood. Sleep in. Relax.”

“Seafood’s good,” Alex acknowledges quietly.

I can’t believe I’m doing this, Sid thinks, but he’s counted on the fact that once he’s started this, he won’t stop.

“I know this like out of the blue and it’s been like, forever but I was wondering what you would think about,” he continues, “Um, maybe coming to the beach for a while. That is if you don’t mind spending some time with a washed up hockey player?”

Sid chews on his lower lip while he waits for Alex to answer. Alex’s voice is quieter, and maybe a bit unsteady, when he says, “I don’t know about that, Sid. But maybe I go with you.”

“Good,” Sid says softly, and shuts his eyes in relief. He hadn’t realized he’d been holding his breath. “Good,” he says again, this time allowing himself to smile a little.

“When?” Alex asks softly.

“When can you get here?

 

*****************************************

 

Sid drives to the airport to pick Alex up. Rush hour, or what accounts for rush hour in Halifax, is almost over and he gets to the terminal in lots of time. When he looks at the arrivals board he’s relieved to see Alex’s flight hasn’t been delayed. They won’t be leaving for the beach until morning but Sid wants to get Alex back to the house early. He’s flown from Moscow, via Frankfurt and Toronto. He’s got to be exhausted. 

Sid has an attack of nerves as he’s waiting slouched down in a seat with a baseball cap pulled down almost to his eyes. It’s not so much that he’s worried he’ll be recognized, or seen together with Alex when he arrives, it’s more that........it’s just been so damn long. He has no idea where he stands with Alex although the fact that he’s coming at all stands as testament that apparently Sid at least has a chance. He prays he doesn’t blow it.

Sid jumps to his feet when a people start coming though the doors, tired, rumpled looking travelers pushing luggage in front of them. He scans the crowd, looking for a familiar figure. He has no idea what Alex will even look like or what he’ll be wearing. It’s been that long. Sid finds himself peering at each masculine face that comes through the door, afraid he’s going to miss him.

Sid finally spots Alex after the first rush of passengers. He looks tired. Sid smiles hesitantly and takes a step forward, raising his hand in greeting. Alex sees him and lifts his chin in acknowledgement. He changes course so that he’ll reach Sid. The crowd flows around them and time stands still.

There’s a second while they’re smiling tentatively at each other, standing a couple feet apart, when Sid thinks that he’s going to cry, and that he can’t bear to touch Alex after so long. He’s afraid he might fall apart. He has forgotten the effect Alex has on him. How could he have? Seeing him again makes the intervening years drop away. Sid looks him over and a flood of emotion threatens to overcome him.

There are little crinkles in the corners of Alex’s eyes when he smiles and the hair at his temples is flecked with gray. But his hair itself, well that hasn’t changed much at all. It still looks as if it’s his mom cut it in a sort of retro Eastern European pimp look. Alex seems thinner, not nearly so bulky and muscular in the shoulders and neck as he used to be. The boyish exuberance Sid remembers so fondly is nowhere to be seen. He seems subdued, even diminished in a not quite tangible way. He’s got his tooth replaced now Sid notices. A familiar gold necklace peeps from the collar.

Alex looks back at Sid without saying anything. There’s an awkwardness Sid wishes wasn’t there. It’s difficult to believe that it’s as hard for Alex as it is for him, but when Sid looks into his eyes he can see it. He’s unsure as well. Sid steps forward and holds out his right hand, thinking they’ll shake. To Sid’s relief Alex takes his hand immediately but quickly steps closer and then they are hugging. They stand in each other’s arms, Alex’s chin resting on Sid’s shoulder, for a long, long time. 

Sid can smell Alex and suddenly it’s the same, like when they were last together. The moment stretches out, the bustle of the airport disappears from around them, and Sid just breathes in his scent. He wouldn’t have noticed if someone walked into them right then, but he’s completely aware of the light press of Alex’s fingers into his back and the comforting warmth pressed against him. 

Sid’s body knows the exact shape of Alex’s and just how they should feel pressed together. It hasn’t forgotten that in all this time. It’s almost painful, how right it is. Sid feels like it could almost shatter; the present mixing with what’s happened in the past, colored with regret. Sid has to swallow hard, gulping compulsively and he struggles to get his emotions back under control. 

He has so much he needs to say. He’s not going to hide anymore, he won’t go backwards, but he doesn’t want to rush things. He’s not going to say anything until it’s right. He just rests his head on Alex’s chest and listens to the slow heartbeat within. Alex smells the way he used to taste, and Sid keeps breathing more and more of him. It will have to do for now, because Sid knows he’s not going to kiss Alex right now, not here.

Finally it’s as if the bubble pops and they move apart. Sid is still warm all over from the feel of Alex. “Don’t you have a coat?” he asks doubtfully. It’s summer but in Halifax the wind off the ocean is still always cold. He suddenly feels awkward again now that they are no longer touching. 

“Is in my bag,” Alex tells him.

“You should get it out. It’s not very warm today,” Sid says, hoping he doesn’t sound too motherly. 

Alex snorts and Sid realizes he’s probably failed completely at that. He smiles at Sid though and puts down his suitcase.

Sid stands a little behind Alex, watching him as he unzips his bag and pulls out a sweatshirt. He admires the low-riding baggy jeans that outline Alex’s shapely ass, and the neat tapering of his sculpted shoulders under his tee. He’s slightly mortified when he realizes he’s starting to get hard. 

“Come on. The cars out this way,” he tells Alex, gesturing towards the exit. 

“So when I get to drive?” Alex asks cheerfully when Sid pulls out of the airport short term parking lot and onto the highway. They’re on the freeway back into town when an SUV zips by going almost forty over the speed limit and then cuts in front of them. Sid brakes suddenly and then unclenches his teeth before he turns to Alex. 

“You drive too fast,” he replies without thinking, forgetting for a moment about the accident.

Alex blinks in surprise, momentarily taken aback and then he sees the horrified look on Sid’s face and shakes his head with a wry smile. “Is true,” he chuckles. “But not so much now.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean...” Sid stammers.

Alex waves off his apology and shakes his head. “Is good to see you don’t change, Sid,” he tells him. “Still put foot in mouth.”

Sid looks ahead at the road. He can feel his face flush. He’s always had an uncanny ability to say things he later regrets. Poor socially awkward Sidney Crosby, a maestro on the ice, a complete idiot off it. He’s at a loss for words. Before he knows it he lets out a nervous giggle and Alex snorts in reply. 

“Shit. I’m such a loser,” Sid groans. He’s mildly offended when Alex says nothing to disagree with him. All he gets is a non-committal shrug. The traffic is heavy so Sid focuses on the road and keeps quiet, lessening the odds of any more faux pas. Alex doesn’t add anything to the conversation. When Sid glances across he sees he’s looking out the side window. He looks tired.

“So, you stay here in Halifax all summer?” Alex asks when they are almost at Sid’s place. 

Sid signals and then makes a right before answering his question. “Yeah, mostly. I’ve got a house here. My parents are here. My sister comes home in the summer from school. It’s nice. I try to get home when I can.” He’s suddenly very conscious of how little they actually know about each other’s lives.

“Nice,” Alex comments as they pull into Sid’s circular driveway. Sid glances around his yard and shrugs. He’s barely been here in the last couple years. Taylor’s staying with him this summer but she’s not here tonight. Sid has dispatched her to their parents place. Sid had to tell her, and unfortunately his parents too, what he was doing, who he’d invited to visit, in order to obtain her cooperation. They all know they are not welcome for a surprise visit. 

“Yeah,” Sid smiles. “Well, come in. I thought we’d just order a pizza or something. I’m not much of a cook. Unless you want a protein shake or maybe an egg white omelette? Or I’ve got some fruit.”

Alex looks at him blankly for a second as if fruit is an English word he hasn’t added to his vocabulary yet and then grimaces. He tells Sid mildly, “Maybe pizza good.”

Sid laughs softly and shows him the guest room and where the bathroom is. He watches as Alex puts his bags in the corner and then looks around the room. 

“Look, you probably want to take a shower after the flight. Help yourself, okay? There are towels on the dresser. I’ll order the pizza.”

“Okay,” Alex nods.

It takes forever to get through to Sid’s favorite pizza place, the one that does the low fat veggie with whole wheat crust. He decides he better get two and orders what he knows is Alex’s favorite, pepperoni with double cheese. When he’s done he has a sudden attack of nerves and gets himself a drink of water and does breathing exercises for a few minutes until his heart isn’t racing anymore. 

He goes to find Alex and sees that back in the living room, showered and changed into sweats and a fresh t-shirt. His hair is towelled dried and sticking up even more than usual and it makes Sid smile. He’s also sound asleep on the couch. The TV is on; playing some sort of entertainment program but Alex is snoring softly. He looks more boyish when he’s sleeping, despite the stubble. He obviously hasn’t taken the time to shave. 

Sid lets Alex sleep until the pizza comes and then shakes his shoulder gently to wake him up. Alex wakes with a start and pushes himself upright.

“Sorry,” he groans, wiping his hands over his face. “Long flight.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sid tells him. “Don’t worry about it. The pizza’s here. And I’ve got some coke or water if you want one. Sorry, there’s no beer. I’m not really drinking much anymore. Let’s have something to eat and you can go back to bed. We’ll go out to the beach tomorrow.”

They sit in the living room and eat pizza out of the box with their feet up on the coffee table. Sid is being polite and has allowed Alex control of the remote but it is costing him dearly. When Alex flips the channel to one showing a reality show he starts to get twitchy. Sid checks his watch. Sports Roundup is coming on in a few minutes and he never misses it.

Alex picks up on his distress and asks, “Is there something you want to watch?” before handing him back the remote. Sid smiles with relief and switches channels immediately. They finish off the pizza while they watch the days sports highlights.

During a commercial Alex asks Sid, “When we leave tomorrow, Sid?” 

He shrugs. “It doesn’t matter. The cabin’s only a couple hours away. We can go whenever we’re ready. You should probably sleep as long as you can.”

“Okay,” Alex nods. He looks worn out. “I think I go to bed, Sid. Real tired.”

“Yeah, go ahead.” Sid gets up when Alex does and follows him to the guest room. They stand in the doorway, just looking at each other a minute, and then Alex gives him a tired smile and tells him, “I missed you.” His mouth is soft and serious and Sid wants to kiss him more than he’s ever wanted anything in his life. 

Instead Sid smiles and nods thoughtfully and makes himself say “I missed you too.” The words are only a fraction of what it was like and what he really wants to say. There is time for all that. Alex is here, and Sid knows that what will happen will happen.

Sid wakes up in the middle of the night and can’t get back to sleep. It’s been happening occasionally since his injury and it frustrates the hell out of him. The doctor’s initial answer was sleeping pills but in hindsight they weren’t such a great idea. There’s no way he’s going down that road again. Usually now he just watches movies until he finally drifts off, or not. Sid flips on the TV in his room and starts watching a Western.

He sleeps late the next morning despite his best intentions but not as late as Alex. Sid doesn’t have the heart to wake him up any earlier. Every time he looks in the guest room Alex is sprawled in another position, still snoring softly. Sid packs up a few clothes in his Jeep. When he’s done he makes himself a protein and wheatgrass smoothie and turns on TSN.

Alex finally emerges close to noon, scratching his stomach while he wanders across the hall to the bathroom. He takes a piss with the door open and it reminds Sid so much of rooming with one of his teammates that it makes him smile. Alex finds Sid in the living room and sits down at the other end of the couch.

He whistles when he looks at his watch and sees what time it is. “Sorry, Sid. Is late. You should have got me up.”

“It’s fine. There’s time,” Sid tells him. It’s what he’s been telling himself. “Why don’t you get dressed and we’ll go through Tim Horton’s on the way out of town.”

Alex is ready in no time, skipping a shower this morning and they load his things in the back of Sid’s Jeep. They both put on sunglasses. It’s the kind of day that’s so bright it makes you squint even through the tinted windshield. It’s hot already too. Sid fiddles with the air conditioning, setting it to his usual temperature, before he pulls out of the driveway. 

They stop at a Timmie’s and Alex orders a large coffee, a truly shocking number of breakfast sandwiches as well as a box of donut holes. Sid shakes his head when he hands the bag of food across to Alex.

“What?” Alex demands.

“Don’t you gain weight eating like that?” Sid asks him. He’s found he’s had to watch his own diet now that he’s not working out as much. He’d put on twenty pounds through forced inactivity and he didn’t like it at all.

Alex just shrugs and then bites into the first of his sandwiches. When he finishes the last of them he starts in on the donut holes. Sid does take one when the box is offered to him.

They get on the highway and head north out of Halifax. The traffic is light and they are at the outskirts in no time where the last housing development runs into farmland and then forest. Alex watches the scenery flow by, asking a question once in a while about the surroundings, but it’s not even an hour before he’s fallen asleep again.

His head is lolled to the side, his lips slightly parted, hand lying palm up, loose on his knee. Sid wants to reach out and touch him; he wants to have the right to do it, to lace their fingers on Alex’s knee, and kiss Alex’s knuckles if he wakes up. He doesn’t feel like he has that right yet though so he doesn’t do it. He’ll wait.

The weather is changing for the worse. The sun is still out but it’s gotten humid; there is electricity in the air, a subtle edge, hinting of a coming storm. Sid drives towards a dusky horizon, muddy purple with thickening thunderclouds. Soon the first few raindrops hit the windshield and the air chills notably. Sid turns on the heat. The first rhythmic pattern turns to a quick nervous drumming on the roof of the Jeep. Rain falls faster, slicking the windshield between swipes of the wiper blades. The whole highway has slowed, even little sports cars pass them more slowly. And then everyone stops.

Alex wakes up and clears his throat. “Looks like rain,” he croaks.

“Yeah,” Sid laughs. “There must be an accident up ahead,” he tells him, gesturing at the trail of brake lights stretching as far as they can see. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel. They are inching along.

“Almost there?” Alex asks hopefully, eating a couple more donut holes.

Sid eats one too even though he’s not hungry at all and then rubs his forehead, trying to smooth out the tension there. It’s nerves and lack of sleep and the poor visibility of driving in the rain but it all adds up to the beginnings of a headache. He can feel pinpricks of pain forming behind his eyes. It pisses him off. He hasn’t had one in a while.

“You okay?” Alex asks immediately.

“Headache,” Sid tells him. 

“You get them a lot?” 

Sid shrugs. “Yeah. Since my head injury. It’s been getting a bit better.” 

Alex stares out the window but Sid can see him flexing his fingers on his lap, and worrying his lower lip as if he’s turning something over in his mind. Finally he says, “I want to come, Sid. When you get hurt. I packed. But mom tell me, no. Not my place.”

Sid nods at that and smiles briefly. He’s secretly thrilled that Alex wanted to come when it happened but he’s glad that he didn’t. Sid was in no shape then to deal with their relationship. Alex’s mother had probably been right. There was nothing Alex could have done to help. And Sid wouldn’t have wanted him there, would have hated to have Alex see him like that. 

“It’s okay. I wasn’t much fun to be around for a while,” Sid tells him, remembering the horror of the first couple months in hospital. He hated being around his family, the team was worse. It would have been a thousand times worse with Alex.

“Nothing new,” Alex grumps but his eyes are smiling and Sid can’t help but chuckle. He’s sure his parents would agree. He knows Brent would.

The traffic inches ahead a few hundred meters and then stops, this time for good. They both sit there staring out at the rain and then Alex is tilting his seat back and shutting his eyes again. Sid thinks “good idea” and does the same. He dozes off. He wakes up when he hears cars finally start moving past them in the opposite direction. 

There’s no sign of their lane moving at all. It’s single lane traffic; always a bad sign. And Sid knows there are no bypasses for this section of road. It’s the only road up this part of the coast. They could be here a while. Sid’s mind flashes to another accident scene he saw on TV.

“I saw your accident on the news,” he tells Alex.

Alex lets out a deep breath. “Was sad day,” he says as he watches the cars pass. An ambulance goes by with its lights flashing, heading towards Halifax. 

“Were you badly hurt,” Sid asks. He’s not sure why he does. He’s read all the news stories so he knows most of the answers. He just doesn’t know what else to say.

Alex shrugs. “Broken bones and stitches. Nothing too bad. My friend Pavel not so lucky.” 

It’s something Sid’s been wondering for a long time so he asks,” Was he your...?” and he means to say “lover” but somehow can’t say the word. He stops. He doesn’t know what to call him. He’s glad they aren’t moving, he can barely concentrate, waiting to hear what Alex has to say.

“Pavel?” Alex shrugs. “He was good friend. Is true, years ago he was more. He was first man I sleep with. When we play junior together.” He sounds sad more than anything but there is an edge of guarded firmness to Alex’s voice. Sid nods and stares ahead into the rain.

“Don’t worry Sid. You not one who turn me gay,” Alex tells him with a rueful smile.

“Were you together when you had the accident?” Sid has to ask.

Alex frowns. “Of course. Together. Pavel die in accident.”

“I mean ‘Together”, together,” Sid pushes.

“No,” Alex answers thoughtfully. “Not for long time. We hang out. He show me around. Go out to clubs,” he finishes slightly uncomfortably. 

On an impulse Sid says, “Gay clubs?” He’s aiming for casual but he’s afraid there’s a hint of accusation in his tone anyway.

Alex just shrugs and turns away without saying anything. And Sid gets it. He’s given up any right to be interested in who Alex sleeps with anymore. The traffic starts to move again and Sid inches forward. Before long they reach the accident scene. There’s a tanker truck involved and something small that there’s hardly anything left of anymore. They both look at the vehicles as they creep by.

“Is it hard?” Sid asks. It’s almost a whisper.

Alex looks at him blankly for a second until Sid elaborates. “Being out. Going out to clubs and being gay. I mean, has it been hard to come out? Does everyone know?” It’s what he’s been agonizing with himself.

Alex sits back and thinks for a minute before answering. His limitations with English frustrate him and he sighs before he begins. 

“Family know. Teammates know for long time. Club know now. I tell Russian press I bisexual. Is not secret. But is personal life. If I hook up with women or men I still not talk about it to press. Is not important. If serious, if meet right person and settle down I don’t hide it for sure. Because that would be important part of my life. But is not most important thing about Alexander Ovechkin.”

“It is important to people though,” Sid tells him. “People want to know.”

“Maybe. And maybe I tell whole world one day. If meet right person,” he shrugs as if that point in time is a long way off and purely hypothetical.

Sid stews about that one for a while and then finally asks about something else that’s been on his mind.

“So what about the supermodel we all saw you in the magazines with? Where does she fit it?” 

Alex looks at him frankly. “She’s friend, Sid. She want to come to New York with me. Not first time someone takes girl along,” he adds mildly and Sid knows exactly who he’s referring too. 

“Christine and I have been over for a long time,” he tells Alex. And then watches while he makes a dismissive gesture as if the information isn’t really relevant to anything. The conversation is not going how Sid would have hoped. He suddenly feels beaten down.

Sid looks ahead a moment and then blurts out, “I told my parents I’m gay.”

He looks across at Alex. He’s not sure what reaction he expected, perhaps congratulations, but it’s certainly not the noncommittal shrug Alex gives him. Sid feels his temper flare. 

“Yeah. It was really hard. I was afraid to for a long time but I’m glad I did it,” he tells Alex firmly.

Alex finally relents. “That’s good, Sidney,” he tells him wearily. “They okay with it?”

“Yeah. They’re good. I was stupid,” he admits. All he gets is another shrug but Alex looks sad more than angry.

The traffic finally starts moving more quickly once they are past the accident scene but Sid still can’t go as fast as he’d like because of the heavy rain. He’s got the wipers maxed out and the windshield is still blurred with water. He has to squint to see the road well and it’s making his headache worse. Every time they pass a truck there’s another wave of water and he can see even less.

When he rubs his forehead again Alex’s expression softens and he asks, “You want me to drive?”

Sid shakes his head. “No. It’s okay. It’s not much farther now.”

Sid has to consciously force himself to loosen his grip on the steering wheel and relax his shoulders. The pain behind his eyes is getting worse by the minute. It’s only 4:30 when Alex decides he can’t live without food. “Should stop for break, Sid,” Alex announces. “Need something to eat.”

Sid checks his watch irritably. “Can you wait until we get there? It’s not much farther.”

“You know me, Sid. Need to eat,” Alex insists stubbornly.

Sid’s jaw tightens more than it already was and he can feel himself getting a pout on. He’d planned on eating dinner in Inverness, where the cabin is. That was the plan and he doesn’t like to change things around. He thinks about it for another minute, tapping his fingers on the wheel and then sighs and puts on the signal. He knows there’s a decent place to eat in Troy and they’re just reaching the exit for the town now. Maybe the rain will stop while they’re eating and it’ll be easier to drive the rest of the way. 

Sid pulls into a family restaurant he’s eaten at a million times with his grandparents when he was a kid. It’s got the best burgers and milkshakes he’s ever had and it still looks like one of those old fifties diners. They collapse into a booth and Sid has to admit it feels good to stop for a bit. He shuts his eyes and his headache eases off a bit.

The both order burgers and chocolate shakes and when the waitress leaves them Alex starts humming the theme from Happy Days while he looks around the room. It’s full of 1950’s memorabilia with photos of old cars and movie stars up on the walls. Sid looks around self consciously.

“I know. It’s kind of tacky,” he apologizes. “But the food’s really good.

Alex grins at him. “Don’t worry, Sid. Is good! I love it. American culture!” 

“Well, Canadian culture too,” Sid grumbles. “My grandparents used to take me here with my sister all the time when we were kids.”

“You come here to beach in summer?”

“Yeah, every year. Usually for a couple weeks. It was fun.”

Sid feels a bit self conscious about the storybook childhood he had. It was pretty sweet, but kind of corny at the same time. 

“You were lucky. We all live in apartments in Moscow. Nowhere to go,” Alex tells him.

“Did you have your grandparents around?” Sid asks, curious about Alex’s childhood. He barely knows anything about him.”

“Sure. Live with them part of time. Look after us a lot when parents away with sport.”

The waitress brings their milkshakes in tall frosted glasses with the accompanying metal container holding the rest and Alex salutes her with a passable imitation of the Fonz going, “Whoa!” Sid can’t help but dissolve into helpless laughter. It’s good to see the lighthearted side of Alex again.

Alex sits back in the booth and laughs too, smiling broadly. It’s so good to see him again that Sid can’t stop smiling even though his headache stubbornly refuses to go away. Alex gives him a concerned look when Sid rubs his brow but they are saved from further conversation by the food arriving.

Alex finishes his burger in no time but Sid struggles with his. His head is making him feel nauseated so that he eats about half of his burger and then puts it down. He picks at a few of his fries before giving up and pushing his plate away. 

Alex takes one look at everything he’s left and asks, “You gonna finish that?”

Sid drinks a bit more of his shake and shakes his head. “Go ahead,” he tells Alex, nodding at his plate. He watches as Alex finishes his burger and puts away most of his fries within minutes.

“I can’t believe you’re not fat,” Sid mutters.

Alex pretends to look offended. “I work out. I need food. Can’t all live on fruit like Sidney Crosby.”

Sid finishes his milkshake just to prove that he can live on the edge and then waits while Alex finishes his. He takes care of the bill and Alex grumbles about Sid paying but he does as he’s told and goes out to the Jeep. He offers to drive but Sid snaps at him, telling him no, he’ll be fine. Alex doesn’t say another word.

It takes another forty-five minutes to get to the cabin and by then Sid’s headache is back with a vengeance. He’s relieved they’re finally there. For a three hour drive it seems to have taken all day and his bad sleep the night before has caught up with Sid. He parks the Jeep and they pull their bags out of the back. The lights are on in the cabin. Sid had called ahead and asked the neighbours to open it up and to stock it with a few groceries for him. 

Sid turns to go inside and then hears Alex make a noise. “What?” When he turns, Alex is standing close behind him, and he pulls him closer until they’re standing shoulder to shoulder. He is looking into Sid’s eyes, Sid thinks, but he can’t tell what he is looking for.

He thinks for a moment Alex is going to kiss him. It would be out of order, not according to Sid’s master plan, but it would be Alex, not him initiating it, and God, Sid wants it so bad. Instead, Alex points at the dull sky. There are cracks in the cloud cover, back the way they came, as if the sky was coming apart and the cracks glow with red and violet sunset. Light lances down through them towards the ground, making vivid sunbeams, like prisms in the sky.

Sid looks at it silently for a long time and then looks at Alex. He’s grinning from ear to ear at the show Mother Nature is putting on for them. “Is beautiful,” he muses.

“Yeah, it is” Sid agrees. They are both bathed in a rosy glow as the sun gets lower in the horizon. As quickly as the sun sets the moment is past and they separate reluctantly to go inside.

The cabin is rustic; the same as it’s been since Sid’s childhood. The living room is lined with overstuffed couches and mismatched chairs. There’s a TV but there’s only basic cable and there are shelves filled with paperbacks and board games. It’s simple and plain and it’s probably Sid’s favourite place on earth. He shows Alex to one of the two bedrooms and then goes to check the kitchen. There’s juice and milk and coffee and some fresh muffins from the bakery. They can go out tomorrow and get whatever else they need.

Sid unzips his bag, looking for his toiletries. He needs some Tylenol in the worst way. His head is still splitting but he really wants, no needs, to talk to Alex. He needs to tell him things, to straighten things out. He feels like this is it. This is his chance. This is his place, this beach house and this is his time to explain, to tell Alex how he feels. It’s time to make things right.

Except his head still feels like it’s going to come off. Sid sits down on one of the couches and puts his head in his hands. This is really bad timing. Alex is immediately there standing over him. 

“Can I do anything? You want something? Something to drink? Anything?” He looks worried.

Sid waves him off. Fuck. He’s supposed to be the host here and he’s failing miserably. He tries to push himself up but the pain makes him hunch over and he feels his stomach rebelling. He sits down again and shuts his eyes thinking the dark may make things better. He doesn’t realize Alex is gone until he comes back and he has a cold cloth he puts across Sid’s brow and urges him to lie back on the couch. 

“Why don’t you rest, Sid.” He tells him. 

Sid nods dumbly. The cold feels good so he shuts his eyes again. He feels Alex taking off his shoes and then the couch dip as he sits alongside him. Alex runs his fingers softly along the hair at Sid’s temple and adjusts the cloth, turning it over so it is cool once more. Sid sighs gratefully. 

Sometime later he hears the door close and that’s the last thing he remembers until he wakes up sometime during the night. There’s a light blanket over him that Alex must have found in one of the bedrooms. Sid gets up. His head feels better but he’s very thirsty. He pours himself a glass of juice and drinks it down before heading to the bedroom. 

On the way he stops to check on Alex in the other room. He’s sprawled out on his bed with no covers. It’s warm tonight and humid and he’s wearing only his briefs and Sid thinks about walking quietly across the room and getting into bed with him, curling close and kissing the back of his neck. He can feel the ghost of Alex’s weight on him. He knows what it’s like to wake up in a warm tangle of Alex, with an arm or leg tossed casually across him, and his warm breath against Sid’s skin. 

Sid is hardly aware of moving, but he’s standing, the blanket draped over his arm, still dressed, by the side of Alex’s bed. Alex’s face is turned, pressed into the pillow, his arm lying stretched around the pillow, over his head. He’s opened the bedroom window and a sea breeze is making the curtains move slowly.

Sid turns away reluctantly and goes to his own room. It’s warm and close so he slides open the window for some fresh air. The air outside is cooler now, no longer as hot and muggy as it was earlier in the evening. Sid pulls off his clothes and climbs into his bed. He can smell the beach odors coming in through the open window. He falls asleep quickly now that the crushing vice of his headache is gone. 

TBC


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of this fic. I've got some ideas for a sequel I'll probably write in the fall once real life gets a little less chaotic. Thank you all for hanging on and reading this all the way through and for all the encouragement.

Sid wakes up to the remnants of a fuzzy erotic dream he can barely remember. The odds are that it was about Alex but he’s not certain. The images and sensations are already fading. He is inordinately pleased when he notices he’s still half hard. When he opens his eyes he sees that it’s light out so he climbs out of bed. His head doesn’t hurt at all; he feels a million times better than he did the day before. 

When he wanders out to the kitchen he sees that coffee has been made and half the muffins are gone. Alex must be up already. Sid pours a glass of juice and goes out to the living room. The room is empty so he continues on to the deck. Alex is sprawled in one of the deck chairs drinking coffee, soaking up the late morning sun, still in his briefs. He smiles when he sees Sid.

“Sorry, I slept in,” Sid admits, shaking his head. 

“Is okay,” Alex tells him. “Not up long. Just sitting.....” and he gestures at the view of the beach below them. 

There are no clouds in sight and it’s warm already on the leeward side of the deck. Sid’s eyes slide over Alex’s body, legs out spread, slouched down into the Adirondack chair, cup of coffee resting on the arm beside him. Sid can see the evidence of his car accident; angry red scars slicing along his thigh and lower leg, evidence of multiple surgeries. He’s had a lot more than arthroscopic surgery, Sid thinks idly, and he wonders just how extensive Alex’s injuries were in the crash. 

He’s got scars along the side of his chest as well and when Alex notices Sid looking at them he looks down himself and shrugs. “I broke ribs and my lung collapse. Doctors had to put in…..” he pauses for a moment searching for the correct word, “chest tube?”

Sid just nods dumbly. He’s just glad Alex is alive.

Sid’s attention is drawn over Alex’s torso and he follows the trail of dark hair disappearing down into his briefs. Alex has his eyes shielded from the glare so thankfully he can’t see Sid perving on him. Despite his dietary failings Alex is much thinner than Sid remembers; his abdominal muscles more defined, more cut than in the past and Sid spends a moment watching his stomach move up and down with each breath. Sid pulls his eyes away before Alex can notice him staring or the fact that he’s starting to get hard.

“I’m going to take a shower,” Sid tells him, turning and stretching as he goes. He’s still only wearing his boxers and he imagines he can feel Alex’s eyes on his naked back.

Sid turns on the shower and when he’s washing himself he thinks of Alex. He tilts his head back and lets the water run over his face and into his mouth as he slowly wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke it in a deliberate rhythm. In the shower with Alex in the next room isn’t the time for a leisurely jerk off session. Sid needs to be efficient so he concentrates on the task at hand. He also needs to be able to meet Alex’s eyes afterwards so he presses his lips together so no sounds escape. 

He needs this badly though. It’s been a long fucking time. He hasn’t had any kind of sex since Christine and even those few bungled occasions hadn’t been terribly successful. Sid’s just mostly thrilled that he’s able to get hard again at all. He’s been worried about his libido over the past year and been reluctant to put it to any sort of test. Obviously it just took getting close to Alex again.

He leans against the wall when he comes, then washes off carefully. When he comes out of the bathroom Alex is dressed and sitting in the living room looking through the games. He looks up and smiles into Sid’s eyes, warm and heartfelt, a look that Sid remembers from long ago-almost. It’s different now, newer, not cheeky or deliberately suggestive, but open and still encouraging. Sid feels his heart lifting and he smiles back. 

“You hungry?” Alex asks him. “There are some muffins left.”

“No, not really,” Sid answers. 

He looks outside a minute and then tells Alex, “We should go for a walk on the beach.”

“Yeah. Sure,” Alex tells him immediately and so they are off. 

They take their time. Sid is conscious of how Alex is favoring his knee as they pick their way down the slope through beach grass and loose sand. Sid’s deficits are almost gone but he still treads carefully, conscious that he needs to take care, that his body may betray him if he doesn’t watch it carefully. He thinks for a moment what a sad pair the two of them make, both with their injuries. But it’s too glorious a day to be preoccupied with such thoughts.

It’s a beautiful morning. The beach is near deserted. It’s midweek and summer is nearing an end. People are busy with back to school preparations. It’s always been Sid’s favorite time of the summer. He’s likes having the beach to himself. Sometimes summer’s end is a bit sad, things coming to a close, but this year Sid can’t help but let himself thing that maybe something could be just starting. 

They walk companionably along the shore break, letting the water just reach their feet and Sid can’t resist nudging Alex with his shoulder, pushing him down the beach and out into deeper water. A wave rolls in, splashing them both and getting Alex’s shorts wet.

“Is freezing,” Alex tells him grumpily and adjusts his clinging pant leg.

“It is not,” Sid laughs. “This is warm, man. You’d think a Russian could stand a little cold.”

Alex smiles but doesn’t say anything. He’s being quieter this morning; not joking and he seems slightly out of place on the beach. It’s a context Sid has never imagined him in and it seems slightly unfamiliar. Alex is wearing a baggy t-shirt and board shorts, just like Sid, but he still seems foreign, slightly exotic, something that doesn’t quite fit into the landscape. Seeing Alex here with him has Sid squinting to imagine him in his life.

When they reach the end of the beach Sid leads them away from the water and up to where the vegetation begins. Rolling hillocks of grass stretch back to where the pine forest starts. Sid gets to the top of a knoll and then sits down facing the sea just below the summit, leaning back on his elbows and looking down at the beachscape. The wind coming off the water is cool but where they are the lip of the hill shelters them. It’s warm in the sun. Sid watches the gulls swooping over the waves along the shoreline. It’s silent except for the occasional sound of their cries.

At first when Alex says it Sid things he’s misheard. He turns his head and says cautiously, “What?”

Alex is still looking down at the beach. He clears his throat and starts again. “I say I thought of you all the time,” he muses, but then shakes his head. “But is not right. Should say, more like, I still think of you all the time.”

Alex takes some of the sea grass and wraps it around his finger and Sid waits for him to say more. It’s so quiet. All he can hear are the gulls and the waves.

“Look, Sid,” Alex starts. “Maybe stupid for me to say. After so long. But you invite me out here, and is nice, is good to see you again. But is hard. Not sure why you ask me here. Wonder maybe shouldn’t have come.”

Sid looks back up to his face. Alex’s expression is pinched, his lips pressed into a determined line. 

Sid says softly, “Alex.” It’s still earlier than he meant – he was going to wait until dinner, when he’d made dinner, he was going to say everything, and they’d have all the time in the world. Or maybe that’s just another way for Sid to delay, to put things off until it’s too late. He’s done enough of that already.

“Look, Alex,” he starts again, determined to see this through.

Alex interrupts him. “Is okay, Sid. You told me long time ago. Is hard for you. Maybe too hard. Won’t work. I understand.”

And Sid shakes his head because that really isn’t what he wants Alex to think at all. He takes Alex’s hand in his and tells him, “Alex, I told my parents about you.” 

Alex blinks in surprise. “What?”

Sid lets out a sigh. Alex is going to make him say everything, he knows it, and he realizes it’s okay. He lets out a long breath.

“When I told them I was gay. My mom asked me if there was someone special,” Sid admits. He shuts his eyes for a moment before he continues. “I told them that there was but that I was stupid, and I screwed up, and I was afraid it was too late. “ He pauses then, squeezing Alex’s hand.

Alex’s voice is rough when he asks, “What did they say?”

“They told me I needed to tell you. That I needed to try.” Sid shakes his head and looks up. “So yeah, that’s why I called you.” 

Alex doesn’t say anything. He just squeezes Sid’s hand back and Sid searches for the words for the next part. As usual Sid feels like he’s got things backwards or jumbled around. Alex wasn’t supposed to speak about this first but just like Alex he had. Maybe he shouldn’t have come half way around the world to see Sid again. But he did. Alex was fearless when it came to matters of the heart. And here he was waiting patiently for Sid to tell him something. 

“I’ve been thinking a lot, about the past. About us. And I think we did it wrong. I know I made a lot of mistakes.” Alex’s hand isn’t still anymore; it’s trembling. “I think it might have been a mistake that first night in the cab when I kissed you. I was so, so drunk.” Sid laughs.

Alex’s hand tenses abruptly and he tries to pull it away but Sid won’t let go. “Then why...?” He asks tightly.

A nervous laugh bursts out of Sid and he shakes his head. “Why did I kiss you? Fuck, I couldn’t help it. You made me crazy. I’d never been with a guy, ever. And when we did those things, it was like nothing I’ve ever felt before. But it was the same the next time and then the next,” Sid rushes on before he can lose his nerve. 

“As soon as you’d leave, all I could think about was when I could see you again. I never thought about being gay or what it would mean but I knew I wanted to be able to do those things with you all the time. I didn’t ever want to have to stop.”

Alex breathes out deeply. “Was like that for me too.”

Sid nods thoughtfully. “But that’s what I wanted to say,” Sid continues, after he’s finished absorbing that, staring with his eyes narrowed at Alex’s averted profile. He pauses to choose his words carefully. He knows he has to get this part right.

“I know now that I’m gay. And I’m going to be open about it.”

Sid watches Alex’s face for any kind of reaction but it’s as if it’s made of stone.

“It’s not just because of you, though. I mean, you were the first guy I was ever with….”

Sid watches Alex unconsciously fist his hand and pauses, “…you’re still the only man I’ve been with….” The fist loosens slightly, and Sid feels a glimmer of hope return after Alex’s tenseness. Maybe, just maybe it’s not too late to start over again.

“But still….it’s not like you turned me into something I wasn’t already,” Sid rambles.

He knows he’s not explaining this right; as usual, words fail him. “By making a mistake, I don’t mean you were a mistake. I mean we just did everything out of order.”

Alex’s expression changes to one of puzzlement and Sid plunges on to explain further. “We did it wrong. And I regret that. I know you must be wondering, wondering why I invited you here. And I, um, I want to apologize. And I want to try to fix it. When we first started to.....get together, it was all backwards and fucked up. I’d be really drunk, and it would be amazing, but, but we’d never talk, and I didn’t think, I didn’t realize how much you meant to me.”

Alex is nodding now, and he’s looking at Sid and smiling softly. His hand is warm in Sid’s.  
Sid clears his throat. “But what I want to say is – I want to try to do this right. If it’s not too late. Before it was sex first and –“

Alex leans across the empty space between them, sliding sideways, and kisses Sid. It’s awkward, both of the twisting sideways, Sid slightly higher up the hill so they have to stretch but Alex tastes the same as Sid remembers. He smells the same and his lips are as soft as he remembers them being. The want they have always felt is still there, the kind of electricity that arced between them yesterday in the rain. The kiss is unbearably tender.

Alex lifts his head a centimetre, staring into Sid’s eyes. Sid can’t speak and Alex is smiling, the expression on his face warm and full of laughter, sweet and breathless. “I know,” he whispers, and his breath gusts on Sid’s lip.

“Alex,” Sid finally rasps out, “I’ve been in love with you for a long, long time. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to say it.”

Sid knows he has to say it; it’s different from thinking it, and different from all the other things you can say that mean the same.

Alex is suddenly on top of Sid, a warm, long legged armful that’s as heavy and substantial as Sid remembers. There’s a rock digging into his shoulder and he can feel sand getting into his shirt but Sid doesn’t care. He’s trapped in the circle of Alex’s arms and he holds on too, as hard as he can.

Their lips just touch and they’re still for a moment, their mouths closed, as they let the awareness of it shudder through them. Sid breathes and it breaks the spell, Alex’s mouth opening over his with a soft gasp, and their tongues touch and twist around each other, fast and slow all at once.

Sid can’t help but spread his thighs and Alex nestles between them with a sigh, adjusting his hips for more contact. The movement slides into an unchoreographed dance, their hips and hands fumbling, grasping and rubbing at each other. It feels amazing but suddenly there are people walking on the beach below them and Sid can hear a dog barking nearby. Alex buries his face in Sid’s neck finally, breathing heavily. He lets out a frustrated sigh and stops grinding against Sid.

Sid can feel Alex’s hardness pressing into him, but they’ve given it up for the moment. Sid soothes his hands up and down the trembling muscles of Alex’s back and strokes his hair. Alex sighs and kisses his neck and says indistinctly, “Waste too much time.”

“We’ve lasted this long,” Sid points out, smiling up at Alex, and leans up for another kiss. Even though Sid closes his eyes their lips find each other unerringly again and again. They relax into each other, not totally comfortable so exposed on the hillside but determined to not let that matter for the moment.

“We should stop,” Alex says hoarsely against his mouth.

“I know,” Sid says. Alex makes to slide off of Sid but he holds him there for another moment, unwilling to let go so soon.

Finally Sid sighs and drops his arms so that Alex can roll down beside him. A Labrador Retriever carrying a stick runs up to them to say hello, his tail wagging madly. He’s soaking wet and covered in sand and when he reaches them he shakes so that both of them are covered it too.

Alex laughs and says something in Russian, turning away from the still shaking dog. Sid rolls onto his stomach and covers his eyes until the dog moves out of range. The owner calls his dog back and offers an apology which Sid waves off.

He pulls up his t-shirt to try to wipe the clinging sand off his face and when Alex reaches over and runs his fingers down his ribs, Sid shivers. They sit cross legged facing towards each other and Alex brushes some sand off Sid’s cheek with his thumb and then leans down and kisses the corner of his eye and then his cheekbone.

“God,” Sid murmurs, brushing his lips across Alex’s lips. “Too long.”

He falls back down on the grass and pulls Alex with him. Now that he finally has him back Sid can’t stop touching him. He tightens his arm around Alex’s waist, and gently kisses his jaw, which is what he can reach. “Maybe we won’t go quite yet.”

They lay there wrapped around each other, dozing in the sun, with Alex draped over Sid, in an impossibly uncomfortable position. Alex’s forehead is pressed against Sid’s neck, next to his ear so he can smell his hair. For a long time Sid doesn’t do anything but catalogue the points on his body where Alex touches him, feel their combined warmth.

When they’ve helped each other up and have brushed as much sand off of themselves as they can and turn to walk back to the cabin Alex throws his arm over Sid’s shoulder and says in a conversational tone, “I’m not leaving.”

Sid presses in close rather than pulling away from the contact and gives Alex a questioning look, wondering if he means to stay on the beach all day.

“You,” Alex elaborates. “Not leaving you.”

Sid’s eyes drop, and he smiles, “I really hope you won’t.”

They walk back down the beach, close to the water line and laugh when the retriever charges back out into the waves after the gulls. A woman and child approach them and Sid tenses without thinking so that Alex’s arm is gone in a second. He steps a little to the side so they are no longer touching and Sid immediately hates the loss of contact. It’s no good at all.

Before the woman gets to them he reaches out and takes Alex’s hand in his and refuses to let go. He looks at the woman as they pass, wondering if she will recognize him. She looks at the two of them and smiles openly but says nothing. There is no recognition on her face and then the moment is past. Alex says nothing either but when Sid looks up at him he’s smiling.

They shower and change before they drive into town to get some lunch. There aren’t a lot of places to choose from so they buy hotdogs at a stand by the public beach and wash it down with coke. When they’re done they go down to the dock and buy lobsters off a boat and Sid raises his eyebrows when Alex buys four instead of the two he’d suggested.

“What?” Alex asks with a laugh while they walk back up the ramp to the Jeep. Sid shoulders Alex, pushing him against the handrail and then sprints ahead of the other man. He feels giddy. He can’t remember ever being this happy in his life.

They stop off at the grocery store for salad ingredients and some potatoes to bake. Sid isn’t much of a cook but he has helped boil lobster before and he’s sure that when it comes down to it he’ll be able to make a salad and bake some potatoes. He’s still wondering if maybe he can sneak off and phone his mom for advice but discards the idea when he realizes she’ll try to pump him for information.

He throws more milk, butter, yogurt, and eggs in the cart and then dissolves in laughter when he sees what Alex has added. There are steaks, cookies and Cheesies, as well as a tub of ice cream.

Alex gives him a haughty look and tells him, “I buy food. I get to pick.”

Sid only shakes his head and wanders off to the produce isle to counteract the junk food with some berries and bananas. He’s thinking some ice cream may go down really well actually. They walk through the narrow aisles side by side, arms touching, and Sid finds the quiet intimacy of the touch slightly thrilling.

When they get to the single check out Sid sees it’s being manned by Mrs. McDonald, the store owner. Sid has known her all his life. He’s nothing special here, just young Sidney Crosby, Trina and Troy’s kid, the one who was so good at hockey. When she sees Sid she smiles broadly.

“Why, Sidney. It’s nice to see you! Are your parents in town too?”\

“No, not this trip,” He tells her. “Just me.”

He hesitates a second and then puts his hand on Alex’s arm and smiles at him saying, “And my friend, Alex.”

Sid smiles up at Alex and they smile at each other. He’s not going to say any more. It’s too fresh. It’s still so very new and private. He tells himself he’s not going to say anything else, only he does.

“He’s um, he’s my boyfriend, actually,” Sid surprises himself by saying. He can feel the muscles in Alex’s arm tense against him.

It’s much easier than he would have thought. He watches Mrs. McDonald blink once and her expression freeze for just a second but then she’s over it. He’s expecting surprise and even judgement from her, an elderly woman in a small Cape Breton town.

Instead, she gives them both a warm smile. “Well, I’m sure your mom is happy you’ve found someone nice,” she tells Sid as she rings up the last of the groceries.

He smiles in relief and turns to Alex, “Alex, this is Mrs. McDonald. I used to sneak into her yard and eat her plums.”

Mrs. McDonald slaps him on the arm good naturedly and then starts to bag his groceries. “I always wondered what happened to all the plums,” she laughed. “Don said it was the birds but I had my suspicions.”

Sid watched as Alex pays for the food and then gives in gracefully to a big hug and a kiss on the cheek while she tells him, “you be sure to say hello to your parents for me.”

They pick up the bags and turn to go. “Thanks Mrs. McDonald,” Sid tells her. “Well, it was good to see you.”

She gives them both another warm smile and tells them, “I was nice to see you too, Sidney. And very nice to meet you Alex.”

When they get into the car Alex leans across and kisses him thoroughly. Sid can’t help but respond though he reluctantly pulls away a couple minutes later, conscious of the fact they are in a grocery store parking lot.

He wipes the back of his hand over his lips and then smiles at Alex asking, “What was that for?”  
Alex smiles back. “Just, you make me happy,” is all he says. He puts his sunglasses back on and then looks ahead although he does leave his hand resting on Sid’s thigh during the ride home. Sid grins the whole way back; he’s pretty happy himself.

When they get back to the cabin he starts working on dinner, attempting to look more confident than he feels about the preparations. He fills the big pot with water and puts it on the stove and makes a salad while Alex watches him, looking somewhat sceptical.

“You really cook, Sid?”

“Of course,” Sid tells him with false bravado. “Don’t you?”

Alex shakes his head and chuckles. “My mom cook for me. Freeze food. I heat up when she’s gone. Rest time team feeds me. Sometimes order out.”

Sid tries to look condescending but fails. It’s not a hell of a lot different than how he gets by. But tonight he’s cooking dinner damn it. He puts steak spice on the meat and leaves it on the counter while he goes out to warm up the barbeque. He’s only been out there a minute when he hears a shriek from the kitchen. It must be Alex but it’s surprisingly high for a man of his size. Sid races inside.

“What’s wrong?”

Alex is backed against the counter, opposite the box containing the lobsters, and there’s a lobster scuttling across the linoleum. When it changes direction and heads toward Alex he lets out another pitiful yelp and backs out of the room.

Sid can’t help but burst out laughing. “Why’d you let him go?”

Alex’s looking slightly bug eyed and he won’t take them from the lobster. “Is alive, Sid,” he gaps.

“Well, yeah,” Sid tells him. “You’ve had lobster before, haven’t you?”

Alex looks at him haughtily, struggling to regain his dignity. “Of course. But not moving around. Never attacking me,” he tells him, pointing at the floor.

Sid notices that one of the elastics has come off the lobster’s claw and he’s waving it around. “Did he get you?” he laughs.

Alex holds out his finger and Sid can see a red impression on the digit where the lobster had pinched him. He starts to laugh again.

“Yeah, not so funny if it you,” Alex grumps, although he does start to laugh.

After Sid’s managed to corral the escapee and put him in the boiling water with his cohorts they eat a companionable dinner and clean up the kitchen. Sid is feeling inordinately proud of himself and Alex seems impressed with dinner, especially for winning round two with the lobster.

That night, after sufficient time to digest their dinner, Sid takes Alex to bed. They’ve been sitting on the couch holding hands and watching the sun set, touching each other casually until they can wait no longer. Despite the urgency Sid finds he is unaccountably shy. He’s got butterflies in his stomach and he savours the edgy excitement of the moment. He’s been wanting this for a very long time.

Alex senses his nervousness and runs his palm down Sid’s arm soothingly, telling him, “Is okay”.

Sid smiles at the reassurance and nods. He believes it will be okay too but he wants it to be better than that. He wants the first time, after all this time, to be special. He wants to excel and the pressure he’s putting on himself is making his chest tight. Sid lets out a breath and wills himself to relax.

Alex takes his hand and gives it a reassuring squeeze and suddenly Sid knows he can do this. The look of rapt affection on Alex’s face makes him realize it would be really hard to screw this up. It’s the first time in years that they lie together naked, their arms wrapped around each other, touching all up and down their bodies. Alex sucks under Sid's ear while Sid combs his fingers gently through Alex's hair and trails his fingers down Alex's sides, his quivering flanks.

When his fingers trace the cleft of Alex's ass, Alex shudders and gasps, and Sid kisses his forehead and one eyelid. He strokes Alex's back gently, but Alex is impatient, and he begins to thrust their pelvises gently together, their cocks rubbing and sliding past each other and against the tender skin at the tops of their legs. Sid gasps at the sensation and pulls away to reach for a condom and the gel.

Alex thrusts against him again. Sid wraps one hand around a still meaty hip and slows his movement long enough to probe at the entrance to Alex's body with a finger. Alex tenses and relaxes, and when the finger has slid deep into his welcoming heat, he groans and bites Sid's neck. Sid withdraws the finger, to another little moan, and replaces it with two. Another soft groan.

It’s how Sid loves to see Alex, coming undone from his touch. It’s what he’s been thinking about, dreaming of, for so long. Normally Alex is on his hands and knees, expectant, frantic, begging for it. Sid’s worried sometimes that he’s too rough, that he’ll hurt Alex, but he’s always taken everything Sid can give him and he never complains. All he’ll do is urge Sid to go harder, push back, and Sid will put his head down and go for it. But it’s not going to be like that tonight, not after all this time.

Conscious of Alex’s bad knee Sid tips them to their sides and Alex senses Sid’s intent, rolls off him and turns away. The broad, pale length of his back is perfect, hot and smooth. His legs curl up sweetly, and he nestles the full curve of his ass against Sid's groin, dropping his head forward. Sid wraps one arm around Alex and puts the other on his hip to steady him. After he has found the right angle and thrust in, Alex making soft encouraging groans in his throat, he catches Alex's hand in his and their fingers twine together. Sid pushes up a little further and Alex tilts his hips and takes him deeper.

It feels like Alex is claiming him, not the other way around, when they are fully joined, Sid folded in the hot depth of Alex's body. He presses a kiss on the nape of Alex's neck and rocks out and in twice, short shallow thrusts, emphatically.

"Mmmmmmmm," says Alex, and turns his head, demanding a kiss which Sid drops on his swollen lips.   
Maybe they are claiming each other.

Sid tries to take it slow, drawing the pleasure out as long as possible. Alex is impatient. "No," he whispers when Sid slows again, and pushes himself back suggestively against Sid. He tightens around Sid hungrily, and says, "Come on. Finish it. Have all night," and Sid can't resist.

His voice is low and rough, warm, pitched just for Sid, so it makes his throat ache and melts his stomach into a tangled mess. He lets Alex set the rhythm of long, powerful thrusts, and soon they can't control it anymore, eyes closed and lips sealed imperfectly together in an awkward over-the-shoulder kiss as they speed up erratically, crying out at each new bit of pleasure.

They lie still a long time, with Sid curled around Alex, but before they sleep they make love again with Alex stretched out on his stomach, his hips propped on a pillow. Sid bends over him, and he takes him as gently as he can, slowly and surely, kissing the back of his neck when he enters him. Alex moans and rocks into the pillows, but he can't get leverage to try to make Sid go faster this time. Sid doesn’t think he would if he could.

Each thrust is slow and careful. At first Sid rests a while between each one, letting pleasure steal over them slowly and ebb again while he touches all of Alex that he can reach with his hands. He wants to learn every inch of Alex's skin again, the way it jumps under his touch, where it is so sensitive that Alex arches his back, where it makes him whimper Sid's name.

A steady pace gradually builds, and he goes in more deeply with harder thrusts. Alex's muscles clench around him. He's lost, in a fever of Alex, pale, warm skin, sheets tangled, and so, so long, too long, since he saw this place. He recognizes it now if he didn't then. He knows now what he’s lost and what he can have back again. When Sid comes both their faces are wet with tears.

Alex wakes him up in the middle of the night with a soft kiss, eyes shut, mouth closed, lips clinging, damp and ragged. Sid floats out of his dream and knows nothing but the feel of Alex's mouth on him. It is pitch black, curtains drawn and the lamps off. He lifts his arms and draws Alex down to him. They both smile. Sid doesn’t know if his eyes are open or closed.

He can't see Alex's hand before it finds the apex of his legs and wraps around his cock. There is only the darkness, Alex's mouth and his feather-light touch. Alex pauses for permission and Sid whispers "yes," spreading his legs apart. Their kiss breaks and goes on, and he feels nothing, then a light caress on his thigh.

There is a soft rustling as Alex prepares and then nothing. Then fingertips tease him, sliding in slowly, damp with something--saliva. God. Then heat, the blunt head of Alex's cock, sliding, scorching friction, Sid’s body coming alive, accepting Alex after so long, wrapping around him, taking him deep. Alex is the only person who has ever been here.

Alex and Sid shift back and forth, kissing and gasping and sighing, for a long time, content with slow tenderness, the gentle caress of their hands re-learning each other by feel and the less gentle, more urgent caress lower down. Their bodies are both slick with sweat. When they come, they shout it, hoarse and low.

Sid kisses Alex tenderly, finding each closed eyelid easily in the darkness, and then lets Alex's mouth settle over his again with a sigh. Alex pulls out gently and they pull the blankets up again before nestling in tight against Sid’s back, his knees matched with Sid’s. He wraps his arms around Sid, drawing him back tightly against his chest.

Sid thinks back to what Alex told him on the beach earlier. He’s sluggish now, sated and almost asleep. He twines his fingers with Alex’s and presses his hand against his chest before telling him, “I’ll never leave you either.”

Alex kisses his neck sleepily, smoothes a hand through his hair. They fall asleep. It's all good. 

 

*****************************************

 

The next morning Sid is woken up by the insistent ringing of Alex’s cell phone on the bedside table. He tries to ignore it at first but it keeps ringing. They aren’t going to give up and apparently Alex doesn’t have it programmed to go to voicemail any time soon. Sid ends up elbowing Alex in the ribs to wake him.

Alex wakes with a groan. Sid remembers he’s not normally a morning person. They both stare at Alex’s phone for a moment before Alex works an arm free of Sid’s body and picks it up. He looks at the screen and then mutters something in Russian before swinging his legs over the side of the bed, turning his back to Sid, and finally answering it.

He appears to be answering a series of questions, all in Russian, and some of his explanations go on at some length. He appears at one point to be getting exasperated, his answers becoming more and more clipped. Sid slides up behind him and presses a kiss to the back of his neck, getting an impatient swat in reply. Not to be discouraged he slides a hand around Alex’s waist and runs his palm up his cock, palming it until Alex grunts softly and tries to inch away.

“Sid,” he hisses, covering the phone for a second. “Talking to my mom!” he explains, giving Sid a scandalized look.

Sid’s only reply is to roll back onto his back, let his legs splay apart, and run his hand over his own cock. He pushes his hips up suggestively and then smiles when Alex snaps his eyes away and goes back to his conversation. It doesn’t go on much longer. When he hangs up Alex gives Sid a dower look and curses him out loud and long in Russian. Sid figures it’s good he doesn’t understand what it all means.

“So, what did your mom want?” Sid asks cheerfully.

“She want to know how if work out with man I fly around world to go see,” Alex tells him with a small smile.

“What did you tell her?” Sid asks shyly.

Alex nods thoughtfully. “I tell her, I think maybe pretty good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Alex confirms, smiling crookedly.

Sid pulls him down and kisses him. He’s buoyantly optimistic that they’re going to work something out. He’s just not sure what Alex’s schedule is like after their visit. They haven’t really discussed anything.

“So what are your plans for the rest of the summer? How long do you have before you go to camp?” Sid asks him.

Alex thinks a moment and then tells him, “A month maybe? Have to check. Have to go home next week. Some business stuff and a wedding. Then back to Washington for training camp.”

Sid nods. It’s about what he thought; about the same schedule as the Penguins; when they start camp. He thinks for a minute and chews on his lip. Alex notices his hesitation and quirks an eyebrow at him. Sid nods once and then finds the words he needs to say, what he’s been thinking about since yesterday afternoon. It’s a lot more awkward than he thought it would be.

He runs his hand up Alex’s arm and asks him, “Hey, do you think in a few days we could go back to Halifax? I’d really like you to meet my parents,” Sid asks. “They’d really like to meet you,” he adds self-consciously.

Alex immediately smiles back. “It would be honor,” he tells him. Sid leans over and kisses him again.

 

**************************************

 

Sid calls his mom the same day and they negotiate a night for Sid to bring Alex over for dinner. She wants to meet him immediately but Sid wants to keep Alex to himself a bit longer. He can hear the excitement in her voice and Sid is pleased Alex has agreed to come home with him. More than anything he wants to prove to Alex that he is serious, that he’s not going to back out again, going to bolt and run like a coward. Bringing Alex home, introducing him to his immediate family is a huge step.

The drive back to Halifax goes more quickly than the one out. Before he knows it Sid has pulled up in his parents’ driveway and then slightly more surprisingly, he’s having an attack of nerves. It’s not that he thinks his mom and dad won’t get along with Alex because he does, it’s just… He doesn’t really know exactly what it is but it’s making him freeze in his seat, unable to open the door, and chewing on his lip. Alex notices immediately.

“You okay, Sid?” he asks sympathetically.

Sid jumps a little and then nods his head. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Just nervous, you know? First time.”

“First time what?” Alex asks him.

Sid feels his cheeks getting hot and he knows immediately he’s blushing. He huffs out a breath and hangs his head. This is kind of the most embarrassing part. “Um,” he mumbles while he rubs the back of his neck. “It’s like the first time I’ve ever brought someone home to meet them.”

Sid looks out the windshield before he continues softly, “There’s never been anyone I wanted to have them meet.”

When Sid looks back at Alex he looks slightly incredulous at that. “What about fiancé?” he asks.  
Sid just shrugs and looks away. “I wasn’t in a very good place then,” he admits. “It wasn’t like that. Anyway, they never liked Christine. Everyone was really happy when we broke up.”

Sid notices that this news makes Alex smile a little and he squeezes Sid’s hand. “So, don’t have to worry about them not liking me?” he asks.

Sid smiles back. “No. It shouldn’t be a problem. They’ll like you more than Chris. No doubt.”

“Good.”

Sid nods. “Okay, let’s do this,” he tells Alex. The two of them get out of the car and go in to meet the Crosbys.

They walk up to the front door and the whole time Sid is conscious of Alex’s warmth beside him. Sid checks his watch at front door; they are exactly on time. He knows how his mom hates it when guests arrive early, when she’s not quite ready. He’s just about to open the door when Alex slips a hand down and firmly squeezes Sid’s ass. He jumps and turns to give Alex a dirty look but Alex only shrugs and tells him, “Owe you that.”

Sid scowls at him and then turns and opens the door after knocking a couple times. His mom is there immediately and hugs him before turning to Alex.

“Mom, I want you to meet Alex,” Sid manages to get out before Trina engulfs Alex in a firm hug as well. Alex hugs her back and smiles. And then they are whisked into the living room where Troy is waiting. Sid gets a companionable slap on the shoulder from his dad and then watches curiously while his dad shakes hands with Alex. The two of them are polite but it’s pretty clear that they aren’t sure yet what to make of each other.

Sid still can’t quite get over the fact that his dad doesn’t care that he’s gay so he’s as lost as anyone. Luckily Taylor has no such reservations. She immediately pulls Alex into a big hug before telling him she’s so glad to finally get to meet him. Alex laughs and ducks his head; Sid can tell that the two of them will get along fine.

Dinner goes well except that Trina keeps asking Alex millions of questions about himself and his family. Sid finds himself meeting Taylor’s rolling eyes and the two of them dissolve into giggles. To his credit Alex answers them all good naturedly and then eats so much of her appetizers that she’s completely won over. Troy follows along, only managing to interject a question about hockey occasionally before he’s sent out to grill steaks. Sid senses escape and pulls Alex up so they can keep him company on the deck, leaving Taylor to help their mom in the kitchen.

When they sit down to their meal Trina gets back to work and ends up grilling Sid and Alex on what their future plans are. It’s all okay except that the two of them haven’t talked about any of this stuff so Sid doesn’t know what a lot of the answers to her questions are. He listens along to Alex’s answers with as much interest as his parents.

“So, are you playing this year?” she asks Alex. “Sid mentioned that you’d been injured.”

“For sure,” Alex nods his mouth still full of baked potato. “I want to come back. Still want to play.”

Troy nods encouragingly. “How many more years you think you’ve got left in that knee?” he asks, genuinely concerned.

“Can’t say for sure. Is better than last year is all I can say now.” Alex takes another mouthful of potato and chews a moment before continuing. “Would like to win another Stanley Cup. Not quite ready to stop trying.”

Sid nods along. He gets it. He wishes he could still play as well. He’s cutting into his steak, which his dad had cooked just the way he likes it, when his mom comes up with another question, this time directed towards him. He’s just put a piece in his mouth when she finishes and he almost chokes on it.

“So what are you going to do, Sidney? Move to Washington?” she asks. Sid hears Taylor snort from the other side of the table. She knows this shit is getting to him.

Sid coughs before answering. “I don’t know, mom. We haven’t really talked about anything like that.”

Alex jumps in immediately. “Is okay with me. I have big house. Lots of room for Sid if he want.”

“I’m still working for the Penguins,” Sid tells them all a bit irritably because really, he’s an adult and he can plan this stuff for himself.

“Maybe do both, Sid,” Alex smooths. “I go on road trips. Maybe you work then?” He smiles reassuringly before starting in on his steak. “I’m sure we work something out,” he tells him waving dismissively before he starts chewing on a piece of meat.

“Dinner really good Mrs. Crosby, “he tells Trina, effectively changing the subject. Trina beams at him.

Dinner goes alright after that. Trina gets the idea that Sid doesn’t want to be pestered with a million questions so she keeps the conversation light. Troy and Alex find common ground in talking more about hockey while Trina updates Sid on what’s been going on with their extended family. Taylor splits her time talking hockey with Alex and Troy and listening in on the Crosby family gossip.

After dinner Trina asks Sid to help in the kitchen while the others go back to discussing hockey in the living room. The three of them have moved on from assessing the best players in the league to coaching systems when Sid and Trina leave them. In hindsight Sid should have known Trina was angling for a private talk but the evening had been going so well he missed the alarm bells that should have been ringing.

The two of them are almost done, just putting the final dishes in the dishwasher when Trina starts in with the questions again. She wants to know what Sid’s told Alex about his problems, about how he’s had substance abuse issues and depression. Sid tries not to sigh when he recognizes what she’s doing but Trina picks up on his vibe. She ups the ante and is immediately all up in his grill about how he needs to be honest.

Sid knows he does, he’s actually trying really hard but he’s just not ready to hit Alex with all his baggage. He’d just as soon not have to confess all the ways he’s stumbled in the time they were apart when they are first getting to know each other again. Trina isn’t having any of it and when she fails to get the appropriate response from Sid to her latest round of advice she turns on him with hands on her hips and starts in. Her voice is getting louder.

“Don’t you think you should tell Alex what’s happened, Sidney? If the two of you are going to have a relationship he needs to know about your…” She trails off before adding the word “problems” to sum it up; obviously having a difficult time choosing between the addiction to pain killers, the alcoholism, or the uncontrolled anxiety attacks and recurring depression. All of which Sid would sooner cut off a leg than tell Alex all about right now.

Sid crosses his arms and his voice tightens as he answers. “I know. And I will. I just haven’t found a good time yet. Just leave it for now though,” he warns her, struggling to keep his voice down.

Trina puts a hand on his arm, “Honey, don’t you see, you hold back, hold things in. It’s not good for you. You need to talk about these things. If he cares about you the way I think he does it won’t matter. But he needs to know what you’ve been struggling with. If you go out to the bar with Alex and the guys there will be a lot of temptation there. He needs to know you’re not drinking.”

“I have told him about that much,” Sid snaps.

“Well he needs to know about the rest too. And what about the counselor you liked in Pittsburgh? Don’t you want to keep seeing him? And coaching your team? What are you going to do in Washington, especially when Alex is away playing? Don’t you think it would be better for you to stay in Pittsburgh? It’s not so far from Washington. You could visit.”

Sid’s already thought of all these things and he’s got no clue what the hell he’s going to do. He loves Pittsburgh, likes the life he’s made for himself after hockey and the friends he has there but when it comes down to it he also wants to be with Alex. He’s just not thought about the nuts and bolts of it all yet.

Trina pats him on the arm, “I’m sure you two will work thinks out but I think the first step is to tell him what’s been going on with your health. He needs to know.”

Sid finally loses his patients and snaps out, louder than he intended, “I know mom. I’ll tell him when I’m ready. Just stop bugging me about it!”

Unfortunately Alex has taken this moment to come into the kitchen and looks from Trina to Sid. Sid runs his hand impatiently over his face. He knows that anger has colored his cheeks and he huffs irritably.

Alex looks from one to the other and softly asks, “Tell me what, Sid?”

Sid looks at both of them and his mouth gapes. Finally he just shakes his head and walks out of the room. He’s feeling lightheaded and knows it can be an early sign of an anxiety attack coming on. He keeps going through the living room, ignoring the glances from the others, and out to the deck by the barbeque. Sid drops down hard at the end of a lounge chair and puts his head in his hands. He’s pissed at his mom for pushing it but he’s also pissed at himself for letting it get to him so badly. He takes in a long shuddering breath.

Alex is beside him moments later and sits down on the lawn chair beside his. Alex gives him an inscrutable look and Sid finds himself turning away. He’s not sure how much of the conversation Alex overheard or what he’s made of it. It’s so damn frustrating. He scrubs his eyes because they are threatening to spill over with tears. He blinks them back and pulls his legs up on the chair and wraps his arms around his knees.

Alex continues to watch him carefully. “You okay?” He asks gently.

Sid only nods, not trusting his voice to speak. God, he hates when he gets like this. He purposely keeps his eyes averted so Alex can’t see how upset he is. He tries his relaxation routine, taking in slow deep breaths and willing his fingers and toes to relax.

He’s vaguely conscious of Alex standing up and then the lounger sinks as he sits down astride it behind Sid. Alex slides up closer and rests his chin on Sid’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him, his thighs bracketing Sid’s hips. He runs his hands up and down Sid’s arms, soothing him. It reminds Sid of Geno calming him during his anxiety attack, and for an improbable moment Sid thinks that the two of them should have been horse whisperers or something, except that Sid isn’t a horse.

“Sidney,” Alex urges softly.

“Yeah?” he croaks.

“You know, I listen to anything you wanna tell me, okay?”

Sid lets out a shuddering sigh but doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know where to start. Obviously Alex has heard enough that he knows Sid has some things he doesn’t really want to talk about. Sid chews on his lip, trying to think of a way to get out of this conversation. Alex doesn’t say anything; he just lets the silence stretch on until Sid comes to his inevitable decision. He ducks his head and begins to speak.

“After I went home, after the accident, I wasn’t very well,” he admits. “Well, even before that. Probably for a long time really. I always drank a lot. Too much sometimes. I never really fit in with everyone else. And the drinking made things easier.”

Sid lets out a bitter little laugh. It’s alcohol that he has to thank for ever getting together with Alex in the first place so he figures he has to take the good with the bad on that one.

“And I’d take pills for whatever hurt,” he shrugs. “Headaches, concussion…”

Alex makes a soothing noise and continues to rub his hands up and down Sid’s forearms, his chin an anchoring weight, keeping him from spinning away into the void.

He continues. “After the accident, when I found out I couldn’t play anymore, it got to be too much. I was with Christine and it wasn’t working and we’d fight. I was awful. It was a mess. She finally left and I don’t blame her. I kind of hit the skids. I didn’t even know what I was doing anymore.”

Sid keeps going, knowing once he starts he needs to finish even though he has to shut his eyes in shame. “If it wasn’t for Geno, I’d probably be dead now,” he concludes sadly. “But the guys helped me get through it and things are better now. But I still have to be careful and I’ve been seeing a councilor still and mostly I’m okay.” He blows out a long breath and wraps it up. “So yeah, that was what my mom wanted me to tell you, so you’d know. It’s just kind of hard to talk about.”

Alex says something softly in Russian and then presses a gentle kiss to the angle of Sid’s neck. He pulls Sid back in even closer.

“Is okay, Sidney,” he says. “She just worried for you. Just want you to be okay.”

Sid smiles softly, “Yeah, I know.”

Alex meshes their fingers together and squeezes softly. “You think that stuff scare me away?”

Sid just shrugs. It’s exactly what he’s afraid of.

Alex kisses him on the neck again before telling him, “It don’t. Is nothing other guys don’t do. I know too what is like to lose everything. Not easy. Maybe, the two of us, we find something new together?”

Sid nods again and tells him, “I’m a little better now. I’m mostly okay. But it’s still there,” he warns. “It’ll never go away. I have to be careful. I’m never going to be normal.”

Alex laughs softly. “Who say I want normal? Never say that.”

Sid snorts. Come to think of it, if anyone could handle a partner who wasn’t normal, it would probably be Alex. Sid’s absolutely sure of few things in life but one of them is Alex’s ability to roll with whatever comes his way.

“Maybe part of what I like about Sidney?"

Sid can’t help but laugh at that. He hadn’t realized that being a complete basket case could be appealing.

“So, you’re saying that neurotic, former hockey players turn you on?” Sid chuckles.

“Maybe,” Alex ponders.

Sid twists his head around and grins. Alex is grinning back and kisses him on the cheek. Sid leans forward again and looks at his hands. He pushes at a loose piece of skin on the edge of his thumb a minute.

“So, what do we do?” he asks Alex.

“What you mean?”

Sid takes one of Alex’s hands in his and examines the wide, strong fingers, heavily boned and solid. “I mean, you’re going back to Washington to training camp?”

Alex gives him a sound of assent and Sid continues. “And I’m still in Pittsburgh. At least I was thinking I’d be there. I don’t even know…” Sid trails off. He hates this, this being up in the air. He’s always had a game plan, everything mapped out so that he knows where he’s going next, always had his parents or the team organizing his every move. Now it’s all up to him. He’s got to decide what he wants to do, what’s best for him.

Alex starts to laugh. “You worry too much, Sidney,” he chuckles. “Don’t know if I’ll play yet or no. Maybe go to Pittsburgh? Who knows? Or we go back and forth. Just let’s see how it goes. Okay?”

Sid doesn’t say anything and he gets a sharp nudge in the ribs in response. “Okay?” Alex asks him again, more insistently.

“Okay,” Sid yips when Alex digs between his ribs again.

“That’s better,” Alex tells him. “See, everything work out amazing. Especially now you have great Russian boyfriend,” he laughs, nuzzling into Sid’s neck.

Sid can’t help but chuckle as well. It’s hard to remain gloomy and neurotic in the face of such resolute optimism. He examines Alex’s hand again, matches their fingers together so that he can see how much longer Alex’s are than his. There’s something he needs to clear up, something that’s preyed on his mind for a long time.

“Alex, I have to say something else. I know I messed up before with us. That I hurt you a lot. And it may seem like I said some things that I didn’t mean but I really did.”

Alex gives his arms a soft squeeze. “Yeah?”

“Yeah…” Sid moistens his lips, nodding. “I really do love you. I do now and I did before only I didn’t prove it very well. I wish I’d been stronger. But I wasn’t and it took a while to figure things out. But I’m glad I did. And I just really want you to know that I love you and I have for a long, long time,” Sid concludes lamely.

Jesus. Once he’s gotten started on talking about these feeling there’s just no stopping him. It’s just flowing out of him like so much verbal diarrhea.

“In fact, I’ m so in love with you it’s unreal. The door is that way…..…” he points down the driveway in case this flood of feelings is enough to send him running.

Alex laughs sharply. “Not necessary, Sidney.”

“So you’re not freaking out?”

“No,” Alex confirms, resting his chin back on his shoulder. Sid thinks it probably belongs there forever. “Anyway, moms won’t let us mess this up.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Sid giggles, relieved at Alex’s response.

“Is probably better to stay here and deal with it.” Alex nods sagely.

Sid cranes his head around so that he can look at Alex for a second and smiles at him shyly. “Well…then maybe this is the time to warn you that I don’t actually love you in a laidback, manly kind of way.” Sid chews on his lip.

“No?”

“Oh nooooo, ‘fraid not,” Sid shakes his head to emphasize his words, “It’s in a really messy, emotional way. It may even involve bad poetry,” he concludes morosely.

“Serious?”

“Yeah.”

“What else?”

Sid ponders it a moment. “Maybe violins? And candles.”

“Blushing?” Alex prompts.

“Oh God, probably,” Sid confirms, resting his face against his forearm so that his quickly reddening cheeks are not showing. “So, I mean, it’s um, pretty intense.”

“Oh sure,” Alex agrees understandingly. “You think maybe it mean having sex on bearskin rug by fireplace?” Alex asks hopefully, shifting suggestively behind him.

“Maybe.”

“Don’t sound too bad.”

“No, I kind of like that part too,” Sid confirms. They both sit quietly a moment before Alex speaks.

“So you want me to say it back, Sid?” Alex asks, laughter in his voice.

“What? Sid cranes around again to look in Alex’s eyes.

“Say I love you?”

“Oh, no,” Sid shakes his head dismissively. “You don’t have to. I mean, you should only say it when you want to or when you really mean it, you know. So, yeah no….”

“Okay,” Alex agrees quickly and then can barely keep himself from laughing when he notices Sid’s brow crease with a frown.

“Sooo….” Sid clears his throat and starts chewing on his thumbnail.

Alex leans his head sideways, studying Sid with amusement and obvious adoration. “You know, could maybe say it now and mean it,” he reveals quietly.

“Yeah?” Sid beams at him.

“Course,” Alex confirms. “But have to tell you, is in most manly, Russian way ever. Not how you describe it. Just so clear.”

“Oh, yeah, okay,” Sid quickly agrees.

Alex can’t contain himself any longer and he starts to laugh. He pulls Sid around so he’s got him pinned down on the lounger with himself astride his hips on top. Sid struggles indignantly but he’s outweighed and overpowered and can’t get away. All he can do is watch helplessly while Alex leans down and plans a light kiss on the end of his nose.

They lay still faces inches apart just studying each other’s faces with small smiles. Alex ruffles Sid’s hair affectionately and then kisses him, this time on the lips.

“You know, Sid,” he starts. “I think I maybe might love you in that messy, emotional way too,” he admits. “I think prolly always did. Just so we clear.”

“Good to know,” Sid tells him.

He draws a finger slowly along Alex’s cheekbone, across his forehead, down his cheek, memorizing every inch that makes his boyfriend so perfect.

“I think we’re going to make it this time,” he tells Alex softly.

“Yeah. Me too.”

The End


End file.
